Old Deccan days; or, Hindoo fairy legends, current in Southern India

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J. yf. WHYMPER,

CHUNDl'N-RANEE,

LONDON :
^DBUKY, EVANS, AND CO., PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.

THE LITTLE LILY,

FOR WHOSE AMUSEMENT THESE STORIES WERE FIRST
WRITTEN DOWN,

€{)cg arc noto Sttiicatcti,

LIST OF THE COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS.

CHUNDUN-RANEE Frontispiece.

THE LITTLE FORTUNE-TELLERS . . . {to face f age) 8l

THE JACKAL-PHYSICIAN ,, ,, 1 53

THE ROYAL FLOWER ,, ,, 223

-.<.-

CONTENTS.

PAGE

INTRODUCTION . , vii

THE collector's APOLOGY xvi

THE narrator's NARRATIVE xxi

1. PUNCHKIN I

2. A FUNNY STORY l8

3. BRAVE SEVENTEE-BAI . 25

4. truth's TRIUMPH 55

5. RAMA AND LUXMAN ; OR, THE LEARNED OWL . . . ^2

6. LITTLE SURYA-BAI 87

7. THE WANDERINGS OF VICRAM MAHARAJAH . . . . I03

8. LESS INEQUALITY THAN MEN DEEM I36

9. PANCH-PHUL RANEE . I39

10. HOW THE SUN, THE MOON, AND THE WIND WENT OUT

TO DINNER 169

11. SINGH-RAJAH, AND THE CUNNING LITTLE JACKALS . . 172 )t;

vi Contents.

PAGE

12. THE JACKAL, THE BARBER, AND THE BRAHMIN WHO HAD

SEVEN DAUGHTERS 175

13. TIT FOR TAT 195

14. THE BRAHMIN, THE TIGER, AND THE SIX JUDGES . . I98

15. THE SELFISH SPARROW AND THE HOUSELESS CROWS . . 203

16. THE VALIANT CHATTEE-MAKER 2o6

17. THE RAKSHAS' PALACE 21$

18. THE BLIND MAN, THE DEAF MAN, AND THE DONKEY . 228

19. MUCHIE-LAL 238

20. CHUNDUN-RAJAH 249

21. SODEWA-BAI 262

22. CHANDRA'S VENGEANCE 273

23. HOW THE THREE CLEVER MEN OUTWITTED THE DEMONS 297

24. THE ALLIGATOR AND THE JACKAL 309

NOTES 315

INTRODUCTION.

A FEW words seem necessary regarding the origin of
these stories, in addition to what the Narrator says for
herself in her Narrative, and what is stated in the Col-
lector's " Apology."

With the exception of two or three, which will be recog-
nised as substantially identical with stories of Pilpay or
other well-known Hindoo fabulists, I never before heard
any of these tales among the Mahrattas, in that part of
the Deccan where the Narrator and her family have lived
for the last two generations ; and it is probable that most
of the stories were brought from among the Lingaets of
Southern India, the tribe, or rather, sect, to which Anna de
Souza tells us her family belonged before their conversion to
Christianity.

The Lingaets form one of the most strongly marked
divisions of the Hindoo races south of the river Kistna.
They are generally a well-favoured, well-to-do people,
noticeable for their superior frugality, intelligence, and
industry, and for the way in which they combine and act
together as a separate body apart from other Hindoos.
They have many peculiarities of costume, of social cere-
mony, and of religion, which strike even a casual observer ;

viii Introduction.

and though clearly not aboriginal, they seem to have much
ground for their claim to belong to a more ancient race, and
an earlier wave of immigration, than most of the Hindoo
nations with which they are now intermingled;

The country they inhabit is tolerably familiar to most
English readers on Indian subjects, for it is the theatre of
many of the events described in the great Duke's earlier
dispatches, and in the writings of Munro, of Wilkes, and
Buchanan. The extraordinary beauty of some of the
natural features of the coast scenery, and the abundance of
the architectural and other remains of powerful and highly
civilised Hindoo dynasties, have attracted the attention of
tourists and antiquaries, though not to the extent their
intrinsic merit deserves. Some knowledge of the land
tenures and agriculture of the country is accessible to
readers of Indian blue books.

But of all that relates to the ancient history and politics
of the former Hindoo sovereigns of these regions very little
is known to the general reader, though from their power,
and riches, and long-sustained civilisation, as proved by the
monuments these rulers have left behind them, there are
few parts of India better worth the attention of the historian
and antiquary.

Of the inner life of the people, past or present, of their
social peculiarities and popular beliefs, even less is known
or procurable in any published form. With the exception of
a few graphic and characteristic notices of shrewd observers
like Munro, little regarding them is to be found in the
^vritings of any author likely to come in the way of ordinary
readers.

Introduction. ix

But this is not from want of materials ; a good deal has
been published in India, though with the common fate of
Indian publications, the books containing the information
are often rare in English collections, and difficult to meet
with in England, except in a few public libraries. Of unpub-
lished material there must be a vast amount, collected not
only by our Government servants, but by missionaries, and
others residing in the country, who have peculiar oppor-
tunities for observation, and for collecting information not
readily to be obtained by a stranger or an official. Col-
lections of this kind are specially desirable as regards the
popular non-Brahminical superstitions of the lower orders.

Few, even of those who have lived many years in India
and made some inquiry regarding the external religion of its
inhabitants, are aware how little the popular belief of the
lower classes has in common with the Hindooism of the
Brahmins, and how much it differs in different provinces, and
in different races and classes in the same province.

In the immediate vicinity of Poona, where Brahminism
seems so orthodox and powerful, a very little observation
will satisfy the inquirer that the favourite objects of popular
worship do not always belong to the regular Hindoo Pan-
theon. No orthodox Hindoo deity is so popular in the
Poona Deccan, as the deified sage Vithoba and his earlier
expounders, both sage and followers being purely local
divinities. Wherever a few of the pastoral tribes are settled,
there Byroba, the god of the herdsmen, or Kundoba, the
deified hero of the shepherds, supersedes all other popular
idols. Byroba the Terrible, and other remnants of Fetish
or of Snake-worship, everywhere divide the homage of the

X Introd2ictio7i.

lower castes with the recognised Hindoo divinities, while
outside almost every village the circle of large stones sacred
to Vetal, the demon-god of the outcast helot races, which
reminds the traveller of the Druid circles of the northern
nations, has for ages held, and still holds, its ground against
all Brahminical innovations.

Some of these local or tribal divinities, when their wor-
shippers are very numerous or powerful, have been adopted
into the Hindoo Olympus as incarnations or manifestations
of this or that orthodox divinity, and one or two have been
provided with elaborate written legends connecting them
with some known Puranic character or event ; but, in
general, the true history of the local deity, if it survives at
all, is to be found only in popular tradition ; and it thus
becomes a matter of some ethnological and historical
importance to secure all such fleeting remnants of ancient
superstition before they are forgotten as civilisation
advances.

Some information of this kind is to be gleaned even from
the present series of legends, though the object of the
collector being simply amusement, and not antiquarian
research, any light which is thrown on the popular super-
stitions of the country is only incidental.

Of the superhuman personages who appear in them the
" Rakshas " is the most prominent. This being has many
features in common with the Demoniacal Ogre of other
lands. The giant bulk and terrible teeth of his usual form
are the universal attributes of his congener. His habit of
feasting on dead bodies will remind the reader of the
Arabian Ghoul, while the simplicity and stupidity which

Introduction. xi

qualify the supernatural powers of the Rakshas, and usually
enable the quick-witted mortal to gain the victory over him,
will recal many humorous passages in which giants figure
in our own Norse and Teutonic legends.

The English reader must bear in mind, that in India
beings of this or of a very similar nature are not mere tradi-
tions of the past, but that they form an important part of
the existing practical belief of the lower orders. Grown
men will sometimes refuse every inducement to pass at
night near the supposed haunt of a Rakshas, and I have
heard the cries of a belated traveller calling for help, attri-
buted to a Rakshas luring his prey. Nor is darkness
always an element in this superstition ; I have known a bold
and experienced tracker of game gravely assert that some
figures which he had been for some time keenly scanning on
the bare summit of a distant hill, were beings of this order,
and he was very indignant at the laugh which his observa-
tion provoked from his less-experienced European disciple.
" If your telescope could see as far as my old eyes," the
veteran said, " or if you knew the movements of all the
animals of this hunting-ground as well as I do, you would
see that those must be demons and nothing else. No men
nor animals at this time of day would collect on an open
space and move about in that way. Besides, that large rock
close by them is a noted place for demons ; every child in
the village knows that."

I have heard another man of the same class, when asked
why he looked so intently at a human footstep in the forest
pathway, gravely observe that the footmark looked as if the
foot which made it had been walking heel-foremost, and must

xii Introdnction.

therefore have been made by a Rakshas, " for they always
walked so, when in human form."

Another expressed particular dread of a human face, the
eyes of which were placed at an exaggerated angle to each
other, like those of a Chinese or Malay, '-because that
position of the eyes was the only way in which you could
recognise a Rakshas in human shape."

In the more advanced and populous parts of the country
the Rakshas seems giving way to the " Bhoot," Avhich more
nearly resembles the mere ghost of modern European
superstition; but even in this diluted form, such beings
have an influence over Indian imaginations to which it is
difficult in these days to find any parallel in Europe.

I found, quite lately, a traditionary order in existence at
Government House, Dapoorie, near Poona, which directed
the native sentry on guard " to present arms if a cat or dog,
jackal or goat entered or left the house or crossed near his
beat " during certain hours of the night, " because it was the
ghost " of a former Governor, who was still remembered as
one of the best and kindest of men.

How or when the custom originated I could not learn,
but the order had been verbally handed on from one
native sergeant of the guard to another for many years,
without any doubts as to its propriety or authority, till it
was accidentally overheard by an European officer of the
Governor's staff.

In the hills and deserts of Sind the belief in beings of
this order, as might be expected in a wild and desolate
country, is found strong and universal ; there, however, the
Rakshas has changed his name to that of our old friend

Introduction. xiii

the " Gin " of the Arabian Nights, and he has somewhat
approximated in character to the Pwcca or Puck of our
own country. The Gin of the Beelooch hills is wayward
and often morose, but not necessarily malignant. His
usual form is that of a dwarfish human being, with large
eyes and covered with long hair, and apt to breathe with a
heavy snoring kind of noise. From the circumstantial
accounts I have heard of such " Gins " being seen seated
on rocks at the side of lonely passes, I suspect that the
great homed eagle owl, which is not uncommon in the hill
country of Sind, has to answer for many well-vouched cases
of Gin apparition.

The Gin does not, however, always retain his own shape,
he frequently changes to the form of a camel, goat, or
other animal. If a Gin be accidentally met, it is recom-
mended that the traveller should show no sign of fear, and
above all keep a civil tongue in his head, for the demon
has a special aversion to bad language. Every Beelooch
has heard of instances in which such chance acquaintance-
ships with Gins have not only led to no mischief, but been
the source of much benefit to the fortunate mortal who had
the courage and prudence to turn them to account, for a
Gin once attached to a man will work hard and faithfully
for him, and sometimes show him the entrance to those
great subterranean caverns under the hills, where there is per-
petual spring, and trees laden with fruits of gold and precious
stones ; but the mortal once admitted to such a Paradise is
never allowed to leave it. There are few neighbourhoods
in the Beelooch hills which cannot show huge stones,
apparently intended for building, which have been, " as all

xiv Introduction.

the country side knows," moved by such agency, and the
entrance to the magic cavern is never very far off, though
the boldest Beelooch is seldom ver)' willing to show or to
seek for the exact spot.

Superstitions nearly identical were still current within the
last forty years, when I was a boy, on the borders of Wales.
In Cwm Pwcca (the Fairies' Glen), in the valley of the
Clydach, between Abergavenny and Merthyr, the cave used
to be shown into which a belated miner was decoyed by the
Pwccas, and kept dancing for ten years ; and a farm-house
on the banks of the Usk, not far off, was, in the last genera-
tion, the abode of a farmer who had a friendly Pwcca in his
service. The goblin was called Pwcca Tnvyn, as I was
assured from his occasionally being visible as a huge human
nose. He would help the mortal by carrying loads and
mending hedges, but usually worked only while the farmer
slept at noon, and always expected as his guerdon a portion
of the toast and ale which his friend had for dinner in the
field. If none was left for him he would cease to work, and
he once roused the farmer from his noontide slumbers by
thrashing him soundly with his own hedging-stake.

The Peris or Fairies of these stories have nothing
distinctive about them. Like the fairies of other lands they
often fall in love with mortal men, and are visible to the
pure eyes of childhood when hidden from the grosser vision
of maturer years.

Next to the Rakshas, the Cobra, or deadly hooded snake,
plays the most important part in these legends as a super-
natural personage. This is one only of the many traces
still extant of that serpent-worship formerly so general in

Introd^tctioii. xv

Western India. I have no doubt that Mr. Ferguson, in his
forthcoming work on Bhuddhist antiquities, will throw much
light on this curious subject. I will, therefore, only now
observe that this serpent-worship as it still exists is some-
thing more active than a mere popular superstition. The
Cobra, unless disturbed, rarely goes far from home, and is
supposed to watch jealously over a hidden treasure. He is
always in the estimation of the lower classes invested with
supernatural powers, and according to the treatment he
receives he builds up or destroys the fortunes of the house
to which he belongs. No native will willingly kill him if he
can get rid of him in any other way ; and the poorer classes
always, after he is killed, give him all the honours of a
regular cremation, assuring him, with many protestations, as
the pile burns, " that they are guiltless of his blood ; that
they slew him by order of their master," or " that they had
no other way to prevent his biting the children or the
chickens."

A very interesting discussion on the subject of the Snake
Race of Ancient India, between Mr. Bayley and Baboo
Rajendralal Mitr, will be found in the Proceedings of the
Asiatic Society of Bengal for February, 1867.

THE COLLECTOR'S APOLOGY.

The collection of these legends was commenced with the
object alluded to in the Dedication. It was continued, as
they appeared in themselves curious illustrations of Indian
popular tradition, and in the hope that something might
thus be done to rescue them from the danger of oral
transmission.

Though varied in their imagery, the changes bet^veen the
different legends are rung upon very few themes, as if pur-
posely confined to what was most familiar to the people.
The similarity between the incidents in some of these
and in favourite European stories, particularly modern
German ones, is curious ; and the leading characteristics
peculiar to all orthodox fairy tales are here preserved intact.
Step-mothers are always cruel, and step-sisters, their willing
instruments ; giants and ogres always stupid ; youngest
daughters more clever than their elder sisters ; and the
Jackal (like his European cousin the Fox), usually over-
comes every difficulty, and proves a bright moral example
of the success of wit against brute force — the triumph of
mind over matter.

It is remarkable that in the romances of a country where
women are generally supposed by us to be regarded as

TJie Collector s Apology. xvii

mere slaves or intriguers, their influence (albeit most fre-
quently put to proof behind the scenes) should be made to
appear so great, and, as a rule, exerted wholly for good ;
and that, in a land where despotism has such a firm hold
on the hearts of the people, the liberties of the subject
should be so boldly asserted as by the old Milkwoman to
the Rajah in " Little Surya Bai," or the old Malee* to the
Rajah in " Truth's Triumph ;" and few, probably would have
expected to find the Hindoos owning such a romance as
" Brave Seventee Bai ;"f or to meet with such stories as
" The Valiant Chattee Maker," and " The Blind Man, the
Deaf Man, and the Donkey," among a nation which it has
been constantly asserted, possesses no humour, no sense of
the ridiculous, and cannot understand a joke.

In " The Narrator's Narrative" AnnaLiberata de Souza's
own story is related, as much as possible, in her own words
of expressive but broken English. She did not, however,
tell it in one continuous narrative ; it is the sum of many
conversations I had with her, during the eighteen months
that she was with us.

The legends themselves are altered as little as possible ;
half their charm, however, consisted in the Narrator's eager,
flexible voice and graphic gestures.

I often asked her if there were no stories of elephants
having done wonderful deeds (as from their strength and
sagacity one would have imagined them to possess all the

* Gardener.

+ Was this narrative of feminine sagacity invented by some old
woman, who felt aggrieved at the general contempt entertained for
her sex?

b

xviii Tlic CoUixtors Apology.

qualifications requisite to heroes of romance) ; but, strange
to say, she knew of none in ^vhich elephants played any
part whatsoever.

As regards the Oriental names, they have generally been
written as Anna pronounced them. It was frequently not
possible to give the true orthography, and the correctly
spelt name does not always give a clue to the popular pro-
nunciation. So with the interpretations and geography.
Where it is possible to identify what is described, an
attempt has been made to do so ; but for other explanations
Anna's is the sole authority : she was quite sure that
" Seventee Bai " meant the " Daisy Lady," though no
botanist would acknowledge the plant under that name,
and she was satisfied that all gentlemen who have travelled
know where " Agra Brum " is, though she had never been
there, and no such province appears in any ordinary Gazet-
teer or description of the city of Akbar.

These few legends, told by one old woman to her
grandchildren, can only be considered as representatives of
a class. " That world," to use her own words, " is gone ;"
and those who can tell us about it in this critical and un-
imaginative age, are fast disappearing too, before the
onward march of civilisation ; yet there must be in the
country many a rich gold mine unexplored. ^ViIl no one
go to the diggings ?

M. F.

ANNA LIBERATA DE S0U2A i^Ayah),
THE NARRATOR.

THE NARRATOR'S NARRATIVE.

My grandfather's family were of the Lingaet caste, and
lived in Calicut ; but they went and settled near Goa at the
time the English were there. It was there my grandfather
became a Christian. He and his wife, and all the family,
became Christians at once, and when his father heard it he
was very angry, and turned them all out of the house. There
were very few Christians in those days. Now you see
Christians everywhere, but then we were very proud to see
one anywhere. My grandfather was Havildar* in the English
army — and when the English fought against Tippo Sahib, my
grandmother followed him all through the war. She was a
very tall, fine, handsome woman, and very strong ; wherever
the regiment marched she went, on, on, on, on, on ('great
deal hard work that old woman done'). Plenty stories my
granny used to tell about Tippo and how Tippo was killed,
and about Wellesley Sahib, and Monro Sahib, and Malcolm
Sahib, and Elphinstone Sahib. f Plenty things had that old
woman heard and seen. Ah, he was a good man, Elphin-
stone Sahib ! My granny used often to tell us how he

* Sergeant of native troops.

t The Duke of Wellington, Sir Thomas Monro, Sir John Malcolm
and Mr. Mountstuart Elphinstone.

xxii TJic Narrator s Narrative.

would go down and say to the soldiers, " Baba,* Baba,
fight well. Win the battles, and each man shall have his
cap full of money ; and after the war is over I'll send every
one of you to his own home." (And he did do it). Then
we children ' plenty proud,' when we heard what Elphin-
stone Sahib had said. In those days the soldiers were not
low caste people like they are now. Many, very high caste
men, and come from very far, from Goa, and Calicut, and
Malabar to join the English.

My father was a tent lascar,f and when the war was over
my grandfather had won five medals for all the good he had
done, and my father had three ; and my father was given
charge of the Kirkee stores.^ My grandmother and mother,
and all the family, were in those woods behind Poona, at
time of the battle at Kirkee. § I've often heard my father
say how full the river was after the battle — baggage and
bundles floating down, and men trying to swim across — and
horses and all such a bustle. Many people got good
things on that day. My father got a large chattee,|| and
two good ponies that were in the river, and he took them
home to camp ; but when he got there the guard took them
away. So all his trouble did him no good.

We were poor people, but living was cheap, and we had
'plenty comfort'

* My children.

+ Tent-pitcher.

% The Field Arsenal at Kirkee, (near Poona).

§ The battle which decided the fate of the Deccan, and led to the
downfall of Bajee Row, Peishwa, and extinction of Mahratta rule.
Fought, 13th November, 181 7. (See Note A).

II Jar. ■

TJic Narrator s Narrative. xxiii

In those days house-rent did not cost more than half a
laipee"' a month, and you could build a very comfortable house
for a hundred rupees. Not such good houses as people now-
live in, but well enough for people like us. Then a whole
family could live as comfortably on six or seven rupees a
month as they can now on thirty. Grain, now a rupee a
pound, was then two annas a pound. Common sugar, then
one anna a pound, is now worth four annas a pound. Oil
which then sold for six pice a bottle, now costs four annas.
Four annas' worth of salt, chillies, tamarinds, onions and garlic,
would then last a family a whole month, now the same money
would not buy a week's supply. Such dungereef as you now
pay half rupee a yard for, you could then buy from twenty
to forty yards of, for the rupee. You could not get such good
calico then as now, but the dungeree did very well. Beef
then was a pice a pound, and the vegetables cost a pie a
day. For half a rupee you could fill the house with wood.
^^'ater also was much cheaper. You could then get a man
to bring you two large skins full, morning and evening, for a
pie, now he would not do it under half a rupee or more.
If the children came crying for fruit, a pie would get them
as many guavas as they liked in the bazaar. Now you'd
have to pay that for each guava. This shows how much
more money people need now, than they did then.J

* The following shows the Narrator's calculation of currency :
I Pie =-\ of an English penny.

3 Pie = I Pice.

4 Pice = I Anna.

i6 Annas = I Rupee = 2 shillings.
+ A coarse cotton cloth.
X (See Note B.)

xxiv TJic Narrator s Narrative.

The English fixed the rupee to the value of sixteen annas,
in those days there were some big annas, and some little
ones, and you could sometimes get twenty-two annas for
a rupee.

I had seven brothers and one sister. Things were very
different in those days to what they are now. There
were no schools then to send the children to, it was only
the great people who could read and write. If a man was
known to be able to write he was ' plenty proud,' and hun-
dreds and hundreds of people would come to him to write
their letters. Now you find a pen and ink in every house !
I don't know what good all this reading and writing does.
My grandfather couldn't write, and my father couldn't
write, and they did very well ; but all's changed now.

My father used to be out all day at his work, and my
mother often went to do coolie-work,* and she had to
take my father his dinner (my mother did plenty work in
the world) ; and when my granny was strong enough she
used sometimes to go into the bazaar, if we wanted money,
and grind rice for the shop-keepers, and they gave her half
a rupee for her day's work, and used to let her have the
bran and chaff besides. But afterwards she got too old to
do that, and besides there were so many of us children.
So she used to stay at home and look after us while my
mother was at work. ' Plenty bother ' 'tis to look after a lot
of children. No sooner my granny's back turned than we
all run out in the sun, and play with the dust and stones on
the road.

* Such work as is done by the Coolie-caste : chiefly fetching and
carrj'ing hea\7 loads.

The Narrator s Narrative. xxv

Then my granny would call out to us, " Come here,
children, out of the sun, and I'll tell you a story. Come in,
you'll all get headaches." So she used to get us together
(there Avere nine of us, and great little fidgets, like all
children,) into the house ; and there she'd sit on the floor,
and tell us one of the stories I tell you. But then she used
to make them last much longer, the different people telling
their own stories from the beginning as often as possible ;
so that by the time she'd got to the end, she had told the
beginning over five or six times. And so she went on, talk,
talk, talk, Mera Bap reh !* Such a long time she'd go on
for, till all the children got quite tired and fell asleep. Now
there are plenty schools to which to send the children, but
there were no schools when I was a young girl ; and the
old women, who could do nothing else, used to tell them
stories to keep them out of mischief.

We used sometimes to ask my grandmother, " Are those
stories you tell us really true? Were there ever such
people in the world ? " She generally answered, " I don't
know, but maybe there are somewhere." I don't believe
there are any of those people living ; I daresay, however,
they did once live ; but my granny believed more in
those things than we do now. She was a Christian, she
-worshipped God and believed in our Saviour, but still she
would always respect the Hindoo temples. If she saw a
red stone, or an image of Gunputtif or any of the other
Hindoo gods, she would kneel down and say her prayers
there, for she used to say, " Maybe there's something
in it."

* O, my Father ! t The Hindoo god of Wisdom.

xxvi TJic Narrator s Narrative.

About all things she would tell us pretty stories — about
men, and animals, and trees, and flowers, and stars. There
was nothing she did not know some tale about. On the
bright cold-weather nights, when you can see more stars
than at any other time of the year, we used to like to watch
the sky, and she would show us the Hen and Chickens,* and
the Key,f and the Scorjjion, and the Snake, and the Three
Thieves climbing up to rob the Ranee's silver bedstead,
with their mother (that twinkling star far away) watching for
her sons' return. Pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat, you can see how her
heart beats, for she is always frightened, thinking, " perhaps
they will be caught and hanged ! "

Then she would show us the Cross,| that reminds us of
our Saviour's, and the great pathway of light§ on which He
went up to heaven. It is what you call the Milky Way.
My granny usen't to call it that, she used to say that when our
Lord returned up to heaven that was the way He went, and
that ever since, it has shone in memory of His ascension, so
beautiful and bright.

. She always said a star with a smoky tail (comet) meant
war, and she never saw a falling star without saying,
" There's a great man died ; " but the fixed stars she used to
think were all really good people, burning like bright lamps
before God.

As to the moon, my granny used to say she's most useful
to debtors who can't pay their debts. Thus — A man who

* The Pleiades.

t The Great Bear.

X The Southern Cross.

§ The Milky Way. This is an ancient Christian Legend.

TJic Narrator s Narrative. xxvii

borrows money he knows he cannot pay, takes the full
moon for witness and surety. Then, if any man so silly as
to lend him money, and go and ask him for it, he can
say, " The moon's my surety, go catch hold of the moon ! "
Now, you see, no man can do that ; and what's more, when
the moon's once full, it grows every night less and less,
and at last goes out altogether.

All the Cobras in my grandmother's stories were seven-
headed. This puzzled us children, and we would say
to her, " Granny, are there any seven-headed Cobras
now? For all the Cobras we see that the conjurors bring
round, have only one head each." To which she used to
answer, " No, of course there are no seven-headed Cobras
now. That world is gone, but you see each Cobra has a
hood of skin, that is the remains of another head." Then
we would say, " Although none of those old seven-headed
Cobras are alive now, maybe there are some of their
children living somewhere." But at this my granny used to
get vexed, and say, " Nonsense, you are silly little chatter-
boxes, get along with you." And, though we often looked
for the seven-headed Cobras, we never could find any of
them.

My old granny lived till she was nearly a hundred ;
when she got very old she rather lost her memory, and
often made mistakes in the stories she told us, tellmg a
bit of one story and then joining on to it a bit of some
other; for we children bothered her too much about
them, and sometimes she used to get very tired of talking,
and when we asked her for a story, would answer, " You
must ask your mother about it, she can tell you."

xxviii TJie Narrator s Narrative,

Ah ! those were happy days, and we had plenty ways
to amuse ourselves. I was very fond of pets ; I had a little
dog that followed me ever)'where, and played all sorts of
pretty tricks, and I and my youngest brother used to take
the little sparrows out of their nests on the roof of our
house, and tame them. These little birds got so fond of
me they would always fly after me \ as I was sweeping the
floor one would perch on my head, and two or three on my
shoulders, and the rest come fluttering after. But my poor
father and mother used to shake their heads at me when
they saw this, and say, " Ah ! naughty girl, to take the little
birds out of their nests, that stealing will bring you no
good." All my family were very fond of music. You know
that Rosie (my daughter) sings very nicely and plays upon
the guitar, and my son-in-law plays on the pianoforte and
the fiddle (we've got two fiddles in our house now), but
Mera Bap reh ! * how well my grandfather sang ! Some-
times of an evening he would drink a little toddy,t and be
quite cheerful, and sing away ; and all we children like to
hear him. I was very fond of singing. I had a good
voice when I was young, and my father used to be so
fond of making me sing, and I often sang to him that
Calicut song about the ships sailing on the sea \ and the
little wife watching for her husband to come back, and
plenty more that I forget now ; and my father and brothers
would be so pleased at my singing, and laugh and say,
" That girl can do anything." But now my voice is gone,

* O, my Father !

+ An intoxicating drink, made from the juice of tlie palm tree.

X (See Note C.)

The Narrator s Narrative. xxix

and I didn't care to sing any more since my son died, and
my heart been so sad.

In those days there were much fewer houses in Poona
than there are now, and many more wandering gipsies,
and such hke. They were very troublesome, doing nothing
but begging and stealing, but people gave them all
they wanted, as it was believed that to incur their ill-will
was very dangerous. It was not safe even to speak harshly
of them. I remember one day, when I was quite a
little girl, running along by my mother's side, when she
was on her way to the bazaar : we happened to pass
the huts of some of these people, and I said to her
" See, mother, what nasty, dirty people those are, they
live in such ugly little houses, and they look as if they
never combed their hair, nor washed." When I said this, my
mother turned round quite sharply and boxed my ears,
saying, " Because God has given you a comfortable home
and good parents, is that any reason for you to laugh at
others who are poorer and less happy?" "I meant no
harm," I said, and when we got home I told my father what
my mother had done, and he said to her, " Why did you
slap the child?" She answered, " If you want to know, ask
your daughter why I punished her. You will then be able
to judge whether I was right or not." So I told my father
what I had said about the gipsies, and when I told him,
instead of pitying me, he also boxed my ears very hard.
So that was all I got for telling tales against my mother !

But they both did it, fearing if I spoke evil of the gipsies
and were not instantly punished, some dreadful evil would
befal me.

XXX TJic Narrator s Narrative.

It was after my granny that I was named " Anna
Liberata." She died after my father, and when I was eleven
years old. Her eyes were quite bright, her hair black, and
her teeth good to the last. If I'd been older then, I should
have been able to remember more of her stories. 'Such a
number as she used to tell ! I'm afraid my sister would not
be able to remember any of them. She has had much
trouble; that puts those sort of things out of people's heads ;
besides, she is a goose. She is younger than I am, although
you would think her so much older, for her hair turned
grey when she was very young ; while mine is quite black
still. She is almost bald too, now, as she pulled out her
hair because it was grey. I always said to her, " Don't
do so ; for you can't make yourself any younger, and it is
better when you are getting old, to look old. Then people
will do whatever you ask them ! But however old you
may be, if you look young, they'll say to you, ' You are
young enough and strong enough to do your own work
yourself.' "

My mother used to tell us stories too ; but not so many
as my granny. A few years ago there might be found several
old people who knew those sorts of stories; but now
children go to school, and nobody thinks of remembering
or telling them — they'll soon be all forgotten. It is true
there are books with some stories something like these, but
they always put them down wrong. Sometimes when I
cannot remember a bit of a story, I ask some one about it ;
then they say, " There is a story of that name in my book.
I don't know it, but I'll read." Then they read it to me,
but it is all wrong, so that I get quite cross, and make them

TJie Narrator s Narrative. xxxi

shut up the book. For in the books they cut the stories
quite short, and leave out the prettiest part, and they jumble
up the beginning of one story with the end of another — so
that it is altogether ^\Tong.

When I was young, old people used to be very fond of
telling these stories; but instead of that, it seems to me
that now the old people are fond of nothing but making
money.

Then I was married. I was twelve years old then. Our
native people have a very happy life till we marry. The girls
live with their father and mother and brothers and sisters,
and have got nothing to do but amuse themselves, and
got father and mother to take care of them ; but after
they're married they go to live at their husband's house,
and the husband's mother and sisters are often very unkind
to them.

You English people can't understand that sort of thing.
When an Englishman marries, he goes to a new house, and
liis wife is the mistress of it ; but our native people are very
different. If the father is dead, the mother and unmarried
sisters live in the son's house, and rule it ; his wife is nothing
in the house. And the mother and sisters say to the son's
wife, "This is not your house — you've not always lived in it ;
— you cannot be mistress here." And if the wife complains
to her husband, and he speaks about it, they say, "Very
well, if you are such an unnatural son, you'd better turn
your mother and sisters out of doors ; but while we live
here, we'll rale the house." So there is always plenty
fighting. It's not unkind of the mother and sisters — it's
custom.

xxxii TJic Narrator s Narrative.

My husband was a servant in Government House —
that was when Lord Clare was governor here. When
I was twenty years old, my husband died of a bad
fever, and left me with two children — the boy and the
girl, Rosie.

I had no money to keep them with, so I said, " I'll go to
service," and my mother-in-law said, " How can you go with
two children, and so young, and knowing nothing." But I
said, " I can leani, and I'll go ;" and a kind lady took me
into her service. "When I went to my first place, I hardly
knew a word of English (though I knew our Calicut lan-
guage, and Portuguese, and Hindostani, and Mahratti well
enough) and I could not hold a needle. I was so stupid,
like a Coolie-woman ; * but my mistress was very kind to me,
and I soon learnt ; she did not mind the trouble of teaching
me. I often think, ' where find such good Christian people
in these days ?' To take a poor, stupid woman and her two
children into the house — for I had them both with me,
Rosie and the boy. I was a sharp girl in those days ; I did
my mistress' work and I looked after the children too. I
never left them to any one else. If she wanted me for a
long time, I used to bring the children into the room and
set them down on the floor, so as to have them under my
own eye whilst I did her work. ]\Iy mistress was very fond
of Rosie, and used to teach her to work and read. After
some time my mistress went home, and since then I've been
in eight places.

My brother-in-law was valet at that time to Napier
Sahib, up in Sind. All the people and servants were
* A low caste ; hewers of wood and drawers of water.

TJie Narrator s Narrative. xxxiii

very fond of that Sahib. My brother-in-law was with him
for ten years ; and he wanted me to go up there to get
place as ayah, and said, " You quick, sharp girl, and know
English very well ; you easily get good ])lace and make
plenty money." But I such a foolish v/oman I would not
go. I write and tell him, " No, I can't come, for Sind
such a long way off, and I cannot leave the children."
I 'plenty proud' then. I give up all for the children. But
now what good ? I know your language — What use ? To
blow the fire? I only a miserable woman, fit to go to
cook-room and cook the dinner. So go down in the world,
a poor woman : (not much good to have plenty in head,
and empty pocket !) but if I'd been a man I might now be
a Fouzdar.*

I was at Kolaporef at the time of the mutiny, and we had
to run away in the middle of the night ; but I've told you
before all about that. Then seven years ago my mother
died (she was ninety when she died), and we came back to
live at Poona, and my daughter was married, and I was so
happy and pleased.

I gave a feast then to three hundred people, and we had
music and dancing, and my son, he so proud, he dancing
from morning to night, and running here and there arrang-
ing everything ; and on that day I said, " Throw the doors
open, and any beggar, any poor person come here, give
them what they like to eat, for whoever comes shall have
enough, since there's no more work for me in the world.''
So, thinking I should be able to leave service, and give up

* Chief Constable.

1" Capital of the Kolapore State, in the Southern Mahratta countiy.

xxxiv Tlic Narrator s Narrative.

work, I spent all the money I had left. That was not very
much, for in sending my son to school I'd spent a great deal.
He was such a beauty boy — tall, straight, handsome — and
so clever. They used to say he looked more like my
brother, than my son, and he said to me, " Mammy, you've
worked for us all your life, now I'm grown up, I'll get a
clerk's place and Avork for you. You shall work no more,
but live in my house." But last year he was drowned in the
river. That was my great sad. Since then I couldn't lift
up my head. I can't remember things now as I used to do,
and all is muddled in my head, six and seven. It makes
me sad sometimes to hear you laughing and talking so
happy with your father and mother and all your family,
when I think of my father, and mother, and brothers, and
husband, and son, all dead and gone ! No more happy
home like that for me. What should I care to live for ? I
would come to England with you, for I know you would be
good to me and bur}^ me when I die, but I cannot go so far
from Rosie. My one eye put out, my other eye left I
could not lose it too. If it were not for Rosie and her
children I should like to travel about and see the world.
There are four places I have always wished to see —
Calcutta, Madras, England and Jerusalem (my poor mother
always wished to see Jerusalem, too — that her great hope),
but I shall not see them now. Many ladies wanted to take
me to England with them, and if I had gone I should have
saved plenty money, but now it is too late to think of that.
Besides, it would not be much use. AVhat's the good of my
saving money ? Can I take it away vA'Cs\ me when I die ?
My father and grandfather did not do so, and they had

The Narrator's Narrative. xxxv

enough to live on till they died. I have enough for what I
want, and I've plenty poor relations. They all come to me,
asking for money, and I give it them. I thank our Saviour
there are enough good Christians here to give me a slice of
bread and cup of water when I can't work for it. I do not
fear to come to want.

Government House,

Parell, Bombay, 1866.

government house.

OLD DECCAN DAYS.

PUNCHKIN.

Once upon a time there was a Rajah* who had seven
beautiful daughters. They were all good girls; but the
youngest, named Balna,-j- was more clever than the rest. The
E.aj all's wife died when they were quite little children, so
these seven poor Princesses were left with no mother to take
care of them.

The Rajah's daughters took it by turns to cook their
father's dinner every day, ^ whilst he was absent, deliberating
with his Ministers on the affairs of the nation.

About this time the Purdan § died, leaving a widow and

* King. t The little one. J See Notes at the end.

g Or, more correctly, Pndhan, Prime Minister.

2 Old Dcccan Days.

one daughter ; and every day, every day, when the seven
Princesses were preparing their father's dinner, the Purdan's
widow and daughter would come and beg for a Httle fire
from the hearth. Then Bahia used to say to her sisters,
" Send that woman away; send her av.-ay. Let her get the
fire at her own house. "What does she want with ours?
If we allow her to come here, we shall suffer for it
some day." But the other sisters would answer, " Be quiet,
Balna ; why must you always be quarrelling with this poor
woman? Let her take some fire if she likes." Then the
Purdan's widow used to go to the hearth and take a few
sticks from it ; and whilst no one was looking, she would
quickly throw some mud into the midst of the dishes which
were being prepared for the Rajah's dinner.

Now the Rajah was very fond of his daughters. Ever
since their mother's death they had cooked his dinner with
their own hands, in order to avoid the danger of his being
poisoned by his enemies. So, when he found the mud mixed
up with his dinner, he thought it must arise from their care-
lessness, as it appeared improbable that any one should
have put mud there on purpose ; but being \txy kind he
did not like to reprove them for it, although this spoiling of
the currie was repeated many successive days.

At last, one day, he determined to hide, and watch his
daughters cooking, and see how it all happened ; so he went
into the next room, and watched them through a hole in the wall.
There he saw his seven daughters carefully washing the
rice and preparing the currie, and as each dish was com-
pleted, they put it by the fire ready to be cooked. Next he
noticed the Purdan's widow come to the door, and beg for a

Punchkin. 3

few sticks from the fire to cook her dinner with, Bahia turned
to her, angrily, and said, " Why don't you keep fuel in your
own house, and not come here every day and take ours ?
Sisters, don't give this woman any more wood ; let her buy
it for herself."

Then the eldest sister answered, " Balna, let the poor
woman take the wood and the fire; she does us no harm."
But Balna replied, " If you let her come here so often,
may be, she will do us some harm, and make us sorry for it,
some day."

The Rajah then saw the Purdan's widow go to the place
where all his dinner was nicely prepared, and, as she took
the wood, she threw a little mud into each of the dishes.

At this he was very angry, and sent to have the woman
seized and brought before him. But when the widow came,
she told him that she had played this trick because she
wanted to gain an audience v/ith him; and she spoke so
cleverly, and pleased him so well with her cunning words,
that instead of punishing her, the Rajah married her, and
made her his Ranee,"' and she and her daughter came to
live in the palace.

The new Ranee hated the seven poor Princesses, and
wanted to get them, if possible, out of the way, in order that
her daughter might have all their riches, and live in the
palace as Princess in their place; and instead of being
grateful to them for their kindness to her, she did all she
could to make them miserable. She gave them nothing but
bread to eat, and very little of that, and very little water to
drink ; so these seven poor little Princesses, who had been

* Queen.

4 Old Dcccan Days.

accustomed to have ever)-thing comfortable about them, and
good food and good clothes all their lives long, were very-
miserable and unhappy; and they used to go out every day and
sit by their dead mother's tomb and cry — and used to say —

" Oh mother, mother, cannot you see your poor children,
how unhappy we are, and how we are starved by our cruel
step-mother ? "

One day whilst they were thus sobbing and crying, lo
and behold ! a beautiful pomelo tree * grew up out of
the grave, covered with fresh ripe pomeloes, and the
children satisfied their hunger by eating some of the fniit,
and every day after this, instead of trying to eat the nasty
dinner their step-mother provided for them, they used to go
out to their mother's grave and eat the pomeloes which grew
there on the beautiful tree.

Then the Ranee said to her daughter, " I cannot tell how
it is, every day those seven girls say they don't want any
dinner, and won't eat any ; and yet they never grow thin nor
look ill ; they look better than you do. I cannot tell how
it is " — and she bade her v;atch the seven Princesses, and
see if any one gave them anything to eat.

So next day, when the Princesses went to their mother's
grave, and were eating the beautiful pomeloes, the Purdan's
daughter followed them, and saw them gathering the fruit.

Then Balna said to her sisters, " Do you not see that girl
watching us ? Let us drive her away, or hide the pomeloes,
else she will go and tell her mother all about it, and that
will be very bad for us."

But the other sisters said, " Oh no, do not be unkind, Balna.
* Citrus decumana, the Shaddock of the West Indies.

Punchkiu. 5

The girl would never be so cruel as to tell her mother. Let
us rather invite her to come and have some . of the fruit," —
and calling her to them, they gave her one of the pomeloes.

No sooner had she eaten it, however, than the Purdan's
daughter went home and said to her mother, " I do not
wonder the seven Princesses will not eat the nasty dinner
you prepare for them, for by their mother's grave there
grows a beautiful pomelo tree, and they go there eveiy day
and eat the pomeloes. I eat one, and it was the nicest
I have ever tasted."

The cruel Ranee was much vexed at hearing this, and
all next day she stayed in her room, and told the Rajah that
she had a very bad headache. The Rajah at hearing this was
deeply grieved, and said to his wife, " What can I do
for you ? " She answered, " There is only one thing that
will make my headache well. By your dead wife's tomb there
grows a fine pomelo tree ; you must bring that here, and
boil it, root and branch, and put a little of the water in
which it has been boiled, on my forehead, and that will cure
my headache." So the Rajah sent his servants, and had the
beautiful pomelo tree pulled up by the roots, and did as the
Ranee desired ; and when some of the water, in which it
had been boiled, was put on her forehead, she said her
headache was gone and she felt quite well.

Next day, when the seven Princesses went as usual to the
grave of their mother, the pomelo tree had disajjpeared.
Then they all began to cry very bitterly.

Now there was by the Ranee's tomb a small tank,* and,
as they were crying, they saw that the tank was filled with a

* Reservoir for water.

6 Old Dcccan Days.

rich cream-like substance, Avhich quickly hardened into a
thick white cake. At seeing this all the Princesses were very-
glad, and they eat some of the cake, and liked it ; and next
day the same thing happened, and so it went on for many
days. Ever>' morning the Princesses went to their mother's
grave, and found the little tank filled with the nourishing
cream-like cake. Then the cruel step-mother said to her
daughter : "I cannot tell how it is, I have had the pomelo
tree which used to grow by the Ranee's grave destroyed, and
yet the Princesses grow no thinner, nor look more sad,
though they never eat the dinner I give them. I cannot
tell how it is I "

And her daughter said, " I will watch."

Next day while the Princesses were eating the cream cake,
who should come by but their step-mother's daughter.
Balna saw her first, and said, " See, sisters, there comes that
girl again. Let us sit round the edge of the tank, and not allow
her to see it ; for if we give her some of our cake, she will go
and tell her mother, and that will be very unfortunate for us."

The other sisters, however, thought Balna unnecessarily
suspicious, and instead of following her advice, they gave the
Purdan's daughter some of the cake, and she went home
and told her mother all about it.

The Ranee, on hearing how well the Princesses fared, was
exceedingly angry, and sent her serA'^ants to pull down the
dead Ranee's tomb, and fill the little tank with the ruins. And
not content with this, she next day pretended to be very, very
ill — in fact, at the point of death — and when the Rajah was
much grieved, and asked her whether it was in his power to
procure her any remedy, she said to him : " Only one thing

Punchkin. y

can save my life, but I know you will not do it." He replied,
" Yes, whatever it is, I will do it." She then said, " To save
my life, you must kill the seven daughters of your first
wife, and put some of their blood on my forehead and on
the palms of my hands, and their death will be my life." At
these Avords the Rajah was very sorrowful ; but because he
feared to break his word, he went out with a heavy heart
to find his daughters.

He found them crying by the ruins of their mother's grave.

Then, feeling he could not kill them, the Rajah spoke
kindly to them, and told them to come out into the
jungle with him ; and there he made a fire and cooked
some rice, and gave it to them. But in the afternoon, it
being very hot, the seven Princesses all fell asleep, and
when he saw they were fast asleep, the Rajah, their father,
stole away and left them (for he feared his wife), saying
to himself: "It is better my poor daughters should die here,
than be killed by their step-mother."

He then shot a deer, and returning home, put some of
the blood on the forehead and hands of the Ranee, and she
thought then, that he had really killed the Princesses, and
said she felt quite well.

Meantime the seven Princesses awoke, and when they
found themselves all alone in the thick jungle they were
much frightened, and began to call out as loud as they could,
in hopes of making their father hear ; but he was by that
time far away, and would not have been able to hear them,
even had their voices been as loud as thunder.

It so happened that this very day the seven young sons
of a neighbouring Rajah chanced to be hunting in that

8 Old Dcccan Days.

same jungle, and as they were returning home, after the day's
sport was over, the youngest Prince said to his brothers :
" Stop, I think I hear some one crjang and caUing out.
Do you not hear voices ? Let us go in the direction of the
sound, and try and find out what it is."

So the seven Princes rode through the wood until they
came to the place where the seven Princesses sat crying
and wringing their hands. At the sight of them the young
Princes were very much astonished, and still more so on
learning their story; and they settled that each should take one
of these poor forlorn ladies home with him, and marry her.

So the first and eldest Prince took the eldest Princess
home with him, and married her.

And the second took the second;

And the third took the third ;

And the fourth took the fourth ;

And the fifth took the fifth ;

And the sixth took the sixth ;

And the seventh, and handsomest of all, took the beautiful
Balna.

And when they got to their own land, there was great
rejoicing throughout the kingdom, at the marriage of the
seven young Princes to seven such beautiful Princesses.

About a year after this Ealna had a little son, and his
uncles and aunts were all so fond of the boy that it was as
if he had seven fathers and seven mothers. None of the
other Princes or Princesses had any children, so the son of
the seventh Prince and Balna was acknowledged their heir
by all the rest.

They had thus lived verj' happily for some time, when

PiincJikin. 9

one fine day the seventh Prince (Bahia's husband) said
he would go out hunting, and away he Avent ; and they
waited long for him, but he never came back.

Then his six brothers said they would go and see what
had become of him ; and they went away, but they also did
not return.

And the seven Princesses grieved very much, for they
felt sure their kind husbands must have been killed.

One day, not long after this had happened, as Balna
was rocking her baby's cradle, and whilst her sisters were
working in the room below, there came to the 'palace
door a man in a long black dress, who said that he was
a Fakeer,* and came to beg. The servants said to him,
" You cannot go into the palace — the Rajah's sons have all
gone away ; we think they must be dead, and their widows
cannot be interrupted by your begging." But he said, "I am
a holy man, you must let me in." Then the stupid servants
let him walk through the palace, but they did not know that
this was no Fakeer, but a wicked Magician named Punchkin.

Punchkin Fakeer wandered through the palace, and
saw many beautiful things there, till at last he reached the
room where Balna sat singing beside her little boy's cradle.
The Magician thought her more beautiful than all the other
"beautiful things he had seen, insomuch that he asked her
to go home with him and to marry him. But she said, " My
husband, I fear, is dead, but my little boy is still quite young;
I will stay here and teach him to grow up a clever man, and
when he is grown up he shall go out into the world, and try
and learn tidings of his father. Heaven forbid that I should

* Holy beggar.

lO Old Dcccan Days.

ever leave him, or marr}- you." At these words the Magician
was very angry, and turned her into a httle black dog, and
led her away ; saying, " Since you will not come with me of
your o^vn free will, I will make you." So the poor Princess
was dragged away, without any power of effecting an escape,
or of letting her sisters know what had become of her. As
Punchkin passed through the palace gate the servants said
to him, "Where did you get that pretty little dog?" And
he answered, " One of the Princesses gave it to me as a
present." At hearing which they let him go without further
questioning.

Soon after this, the six elder Princesses heard the little
baby, their nephew, begin to cry, and when they went up-
stairs they were much surprised to find him all alone, and
Balna nowhere to be seen. Then they questioned the ser-
vants, and when they heard of the Fakeer and the little
black dog, they guessed what had happened, and sent in
every direction seeking them, but neither the Fakeer nor
the dog were to be found. What could six poor women
do ? They had to give up all hopes of ever seeing their
kind husbands, and their sister, and her husband, again, and
they devoted themselves thenceforward to teaching and
taking care of their little nephew.

Thus time Avent on, till Balna's son was fourteen years
old. Then, one day, his aunts told him the history of the
family ; and no sooner did he hear it, than he was seized
with a great desire to go in search of his father and mother
and uncles, and bring them home again, if he could find
them alive. His aunts, on learning his determination, were
much alarmed, and tried to dissuade him, saying, "We

PiincJikin. 1 1

have lost our husbands, and our sister, and her husband, and
you are now our sole hope; if you go away, what shall we do?"
But he replied, " I pray you not to be discouraged ; I will
return soon, and if it is possible, bring my father and mother
and uncles with me." So he set out on his travels ; but for
some months he could learn nothing to help him in his search.

At last, after he had journeyed many hundreds of weary
miles, and become almost hopeless of ever being able to
hear anything further of his parents, he one day came to a
country which seemed full of stones, and rocks, and trees,
and there he saw a large palace with a high tower ; hard by
which was a Malee's * little house.

As he was looking about, the Malee's wife saw him, and
ran out of the house and said, " My dear boy, who are you.
that dare venture to this dangerous place ? " And he
answered, " I am a Rajah's son, and I come in search of my
father, and my uncles, and my mother whom a wicked
enchanter bewitched." Then the Malee's wife said, " This
country and this palace belong to a great enchanter ; he is
all powerful, and if anyone displeases him, he can turn them
into stones and trees. All the rocks and trees you see here
were living people once, and the Magician turned them ta
what they now are. Some time ago a Rajah's son came
here, and shortly afterwards came his six brothers, and they
were all turned into stones and trees ; and these are not the
only unfortunate ones, for up in that tower lives a beautiful
Princess, whom the Magician has kept prisoner there for
twelve years, because she hates him and will not many him."

Then the little Prince thought, "These must be my

* Gardener's.

12 Old Dcccan Days.

parents and my uncles. I have found what I seek at last."
So he told his story to the Malee's wife, and begged her
to help him to remain in that place awhile, and inquire
further concerning the unhappy people she mentioned ; and
she promised to befriend him, and advised his disguising
himself lest the Magician should see him, and turn him like-
wise into stone. To this the Prince agreed. So the Malee's
wife dressed him up in a saree,* and pretended that he was
her daughter.

One day, not long after this, as the Magician was walking
in his garden he saw the little girl (as he thought) playing
about, and asked her who she was. She told him she was the
Malee's daughter, and the Magician said, " You are a pretty
little girl, and to-morrow you shall take a present of flowers
from me to the beautiful lady who lives in the tower."

The young Prince was much delighted at hearing this,
-and after some consultation with the Malee's wife, he settled
that it would be more safe for him to retain his disguise, and
tmst to the chance of a favourable opportunity for establishing
some communication with his mother, if it were indeed she.

Now it happened that at Balna's marriage her husband had
given her a small gold ring on which her name was engraved,
and she had put it on her little son's fingerwhen he was a baby,
and aftenvards w^hen he was older his aunts had had it enlarged
for him, so that he was still able to wear it. The Malee's
wife advised him to fasten the well-known treasure to one of
thebouquets he presented to his mother, and trust to her recog-
nising it. This was not to be done without difficulty, as such
a. strict watch was kept over the poor Princess, (for fear of

* A woman's dress.

Pundikin. 1 3

her ever establishing communication with her friends,) that
though the STipposed Malee's daughter was permitted to take
her flowers every day, the Magician or one of his slaves was
always in the room at the time. At last one day, however,
opportunity favoured him, and when no one was looking,
the boy tied the ring to a nosegay, and threw it at Balna's
feet. The ring fell with a clang on the floor, and Balna,
looking to see what made the strange sound, found the
little ring tied to the flowers. On recognising it, she at
once believed the story her son told her of his long search,
and begged him to advise her as to what she had better
do ; at the same time entreating him on no account to
endanger his life by trying to rescue her. She told him
that, for twelve long years, the Magician had kept her shut
up in the tower because she refused to marry him, and she
was so closely guarded that she saw no hope of release.

Now Balna's son was a bright, clever boy, so he said,
"Do not fear, dear mother; the first thing to do is to discover
how far the Magician's power extends, in order that we may
be able to liberate my father and uncles, whom he has im-
prisoned in the form of rocks and trees. You have spoken
to him angrily for twelve long years ; do you now rather
speak kindly. Tell him you have given up all hopes of again
seeing the husband you have so long mourned ; and say
}'0u are willing to marry him. Then endeavour to find out
what his power consists in, and whether he is immortal, or
can be put to death."

Balna determined to take her son's advice ; and the next
day sent for Punchkin, and spoke to him as had been
suggested.

14 Old Dcccan Days.

The Magician, greatly delighted, begged her to allow the
wedding to take place as soon as possible.

But she told him that before she married him he must
allow her a little more time, in which she might make his
acquaintance ; — and, that after being enemies so long, their
friendship could but strengthen by degrees. " And do tell
me," she said, " are you quite immortal ? Can death never
touch you ? And are you too great an enchanter ever to
feel human sufl'ering?"

"Why do you ask?" said he.

*• Because," she replied, "if I am to be your wife, I would
fain know all about you, in order, if any calamity threatens
you, to overcome, or if possible to avert it."

" It is true," he said, " that I am not as others. Far, far
away, hundreds of thousands of miles from this, there lies a
desolate country covered with thick jungle. In the midst
of the jungle grows a circle of palm trees, and in the centre
of the circle stand six chattees* full of water, piled one
above another : below the sixth chattee is a small cage
which contains a little green parrot ; — on the life of the
parrot depends my life ; — and if the parrot is killed I
must die. It is, however," he added, " impossible that the
paiTOt should sustain any injury, both on account of the
inaccessibility of the country, and because, by my appoint-
ment, many thousand evil genii surround the palm-trees,
and kill all who approach the place."

Balna told her son what Punchkin had said; l)ut, at the same
time, implored him to give up all idea of getting the parrot.

The Prince, however, replied, " INIother, unless I can get

* Jars.

Punchkin. 1 5

hold of that parrot, you, and my father, and uncles, cannot
be liberated : be not afraid, I will shortly return. Do you,
meantime, keep the Magician in good humour — still putting
off your marriage with him on various pretexts ; and before
he finds out the cause of delay, I will return." So saying,
he went away.

Many, many weary miles did he travel, till at last he came
to a thick jungle ; and, being very tired, sat down under a
tree and fell asleep. He was awakened by a soft rustling
sound ; and looking about him, saw a large serpent which
was making its way to an eagle's nest, built in the tree under
which he lay, and in the nest were two young eagles. The
Prince seeing the danger of the young birds, drew his sword,
and killed the serpent ; at the same moment a rushing
sound was heard in the air, and the two old eagles, who had
been out hunting for food for their young ones, returned.
They quickly saw the dead serpent and the young Prince
standing over it ; and the old mother eagle said to him,
"Dear boy, for many years all our young have been devoured
by that cruel serpent : you have now saved the lives of our
children ; whenever you are in need, therefore, send to us
and we will help you ; and as for these little eagles, take
them, and let them be your servants."

At this the Prince was very glad, and the two eaglets
crossed their wings, on which he mounted ; and they carried
him far, far away over the thick jungles, until he came to
the place where grew the circle of palm trees ; in the midst
of which stood the six chattees full of water. It was the
middle of the da3^ All round the trees were the genii fast
asleep : nevertheless, there were such countless thousands

1 6 Old Dcccan Days.

of them, that it -would have been quite impossible for any
one to walk through their ranks to the place; do-\\Ti swooped
the strong-winged eaglets — down jumped the Prince : in an
instant he had overthrown the six chattees full of water, and
seized the little green parrot, which he rolled up in his cloak;
while, as he mounted again into the air, all the genii below
awoke, and, finding their treasure gone, set up a wild and
melancholy howl.

Away, av%-ay flew the little eagles, till they came to their
home in the great tree ; then the Prince said to the old
eagles," Take back your little ones; they have done me good
service ; if ever again I stand in need of help, I will not
fail to come to you." He then continued his journey on
foot till he arrived once more at the Magician's palace; where
he sat down at the door and began playing with the parrot.
The Magician saw him, and came to him quickly, and said,
" My boy, where did you get that parrot? Give it to me, I
pray you." But the Prince answered, " Oh no, I cannot give
away my parrot, it is a great pet of mine ; I have had it many
years." Then the Magician said, " If it is an old favourite,
I can understand your not caring to give it away — but come,
what will you sell it for ?" " Sir," replied the Prince, " I will
not sell my parrot."

Then the Magician got frightened, and said, " Any thing,
any thing ; name what price you will, and it shall be yours."
" Then," the Prince answered, " I will that you liberate the
seven Rajah's sons whom you turned into rocks and trees."
"It is done as you desire," said the Magician, "only give me
my parrot." [And with that, by a stroke of his wand, Balna's
husband and his brothers resumed their natural shapes.]

Pundikin. 1 7

" Now give me my parrot," repeated Punchkin. " Not so
fast, my master," rejoined the Prince; "I must first beg that
you will restore to life all whom you have thus imprisoned."

The Magician immediately waved his wand again ; and,
whilst he cried, in an imploring voice, " Give me my parrot!"
the whole garden became suddenly alive : where rocks, and
stones, and trees had been before, stood Rajahs, and Punts,*
and Sirdars, t and mighty men on prancing horses, and
jewelled pages, and troops of armed attendants.

"Give me my parrot !" cried Punchkin. Then the boy
took hold of the parrot, and tore off one of his wings ; and
as he did so the Magician's right arm fell oft".

Punchkin then stretched out his left arm, crying — " Give
me my parrot ! " The Prince pulled off the parrot's second
wing, and the Magician's left arm tumbled off.

"Give me my parrot!" cried he, and fell on his knees.
The Prince pulled off the parrot's right leg, the Magician's
right leg fell off : the Prince pulled off the parrot's left leg,
down fell the Magician's left.

Nothing remained of him save the limbless body and
the headj but still he rolled his eyes, and cried — "Give
me my parrot !" " Take your parrot, then," cried the boy,
and with that he Avrung the bird's neck, and threw it at the
Magician ; and, as he did so, Punchkin's head twisted
round, and, with a fearful groan, he died I

Then they let Balna out of the tower ; and she, her son,
and the seven Princes went to their own country, and lived
very happily ever afterwards. And as to the rest of the
world, every one went to his ov/n house.

* Principal ministers. t Nobles or chiefs.

II.

A FUNNY STORY.

Once upon a time there were a Rajah* and Ranee f who
were much grieved because they had no children, and the
httle dog in the palace had also no little puppies. At last the
Rajah and Ranee had some children, and it also happened
that the pet dog in the palace had some litde puppies ; but,
unfortunately, the Ranee's two children were two little
puppies ! and the dog's two little puppies were two pretty
litde girls ! This vexed her majesty very much ; and
sometimes when the dog had gone away to its dinner, the
Ranee used to put the two litde puppies (her children) into
the kennel, and carry away the dog's two little girls to the
palace. Then the poor dog grew very unhappy, and said,
— " They never will leave my two little children alone. I
must take them away into the jungle, or their lives will be
worried out." So one night she took the little girls in her
mouth and ran with them to the jungle, and there made

* Ivi"S- + Qween.

A Funny Story. 19

them a home in a pretty cave in the rock, beside a clear
stream ; and every day she would go into the towns and
carry away some nice currie and rice to give her little
daughters ; and if she found any pretty clothes or jewels,
that she could bring away in her mouth, she used to take
them also for the children.

Now it happened some time after this, one day, Avhen the
dog had gone to fetch her daughters' dinner, two young
Princes (a Rajah, and his brother) came to hunt in the
jungle, and they hunted all day and found nothing. It had
been veiy hot, and they were thirsty; so they went to a tree
which grew on a little piece of high ground, and sent their
attendants to search all round for water ; but no one could
find any. At last one of the hunting dogs came to the foot
of the tree quite muddy, and the Rajah said, — " Look, the
dog is muddy : he must have found water : follow him, and
see where he goes." The attendants followed the dog, and
saw him go to the stream at the mouth of the cave where the
two children were ; and the two children also saw them, and
were very much frightened, and ran inside the cave. Then
the attendants returned to the two Princes, and said, — " We
have found clear, sparkling water flowing past a cave, and,
what is more, within the cave are two of the most lovely
young ladies that eye ever beheld, clothed in fine dresses and
covered with jewels; but when they saw us they were fright-
ened, and ran away." On hearing this the Princes bade their
servants lead them to the place ; and when they saw the
two young girls, they were quite charmed with them, and
asked them to go to their kingdom, and become their wives.
The maidens were frightened ; but at last the Rajah and his

20 Old Dec can Days.

brother persuaded them, and they went, and the Rajah mamed
the eldest sister, and his brother married the youngest.

When the dog returned, she was grieved to iind her
children gone, and for twelve long years the poor thing
ran many, many miles to find them, but in vain. At last
one day she came to the place where the two Prin-
cesses lived. Now it chanced that the eldest, the wife of
the Rajah, was looking out of the window, and seeing
the dog run down the street, she said, — " That must
be my dear long-lost mother." So she ran into the street
as fast as possible, and took the tired dog in her arms,
and brought her into her own room, and made her a nice
comfortable bed on the floor, and bathed her feet, and was
very kind to her. Then the dog said to her, — " My
daughter, you are good and kind, and it is a great joy to
me to see you again ; but I must not stay, I will first go
and see your younger sister, and then return." The Ranee
answered, — " Do not do so, dear mother ; rest here to-
day, to-morrow I will send and let my sister know, and she,
too, will come and see you." But the poor, silly dog would
not stay, but ran to the house of her second daughter. Now
the second daughter was looking out of the window when
the unfortunate creature came to the door, and seeing the dog
she said to herself, — " That must be my mother. What
will my husband think if he learns that this wretched,
ugly, miserable looking dog is my mother?" So she ordered
her servants to go and throw stones at it, and drive it away,
and they did so ; and one large stone hit the dog's head,
and she ran back, very much hurt, to her eldest daughter's
house. The Ranee saw her coming, and ran out into the

A Funny Story. 21

street and brought her in in her arms, and did all she
could to make her well, saying, — "Ah, mother, mother ! why-
did you ever leave my house?" But all her care was in
vain : the poor dog died. Then the Ranee thought her
husband might be vexed if he found a dead dog (an unclean
animal) in the palace ; so she put the body in a small room
into which the Rajah hardly ever went, intending to have it
reverently buried ; and over it she placed a basket turned
topsy-turvy.

It so happened, however, that when the Rajah came to visit
his wife, as chance would have it, he went through this very
room : and tripping over the upturned basket, called for a
light to see what it was. Then, lo and behold ! there lay
the statue of a dog, life size, composed entirely of dia-
monds, emeralds, and other precious stones, set in gold !
So he called out to his wife, and said, — " Where did you
get this beautiful dog ? " And when the Ranee saw the
golden dog, she was very much frightened, and, I'm sorry
to say, instead of telling her husband the truth, she told
a story, and said, — " Oh, it is only a present my parents
sent me."

Now see what trouble she got into for not telling the truth.

" Only,^^ said the Rajah ; " why this is valuable enough
to buy the whole of my kingdom. Your parents must be
very rich people to be able to send you such presents as
this. How is it you never told me of them ? Where do
they live ? " [Now she had to tell another story to cover
the first.] She said, — " In the jungle." He replied, — " I
will go and see them ; you must take me and show where
they live." Then the Ranee thought, — "What will the Rajah

22 Old Dcccan Days.

say when he finds I have been telHng him such stories ? He
will order my head to be cut off." So she said, — " You
must first give me a palanquin, and I will go into the
jungle and tell them you are coming ;" but really she de-
termined to kill herself, and so get out of her difficulties.
Away she went ; and when she had gone some distance
in her palanquin, she saw a large white ants' nest,
over which hung a cobra, with its mouth wide open ;
then the Ranee thought, — " I will go to that cobra and
put my finger in his mouth, that he may bite me, and
so I shall die." So she ordered the palkee-bearers to
wait, and said she would be back in a while, and got
out, and ran to the ants' nest, and put her finger in the
cobra's mouth. Now a large thorn had run, a short time
before, into the cobra's throat, and hurt him xoxy much ; and
the Ranee, by putting her finger into his mouth, pushed out
this thorn ; then the cobra, feeling much better, turned to
her, and said, — " My dear daughter, you have done me
a great kindness, what return can I make you?" The
Ranee told him all her story, and begged him to bite
her, that she might die. But the cobra said, — " You did
certainly very wrong to tell the Rajah that story; never-
theless, you have been very kind to me. I will help you
in your difiiculty. Send your husband here. I will provide
you with a father and mother of whom you need not be
ashamed." So the Ranee returned joyfully to the palace,
and invited her husband to come and see her parents.
"When they reached the spot near where the cobra was,
what a wonderful sight awaited them ! There, in the place
which had before been thick jungle, stood a splendid

A Funny Story. 23

palace, twenty-four miles long, and twenty-four miles broad,
with gardens and trees and fountains all round ; and the
light shining from it was to be seen a hundred miles off.
The walls were made of gold and precious stones, and the
carpets of cloth of gold. Hundreds of servants, in rich
dresses, stood waiting in the long, lofty rooms ; and in the
last room of all, upon golden thrones, sat a magnificent old
Rajah and Ranee, who introduced themselves to the young
Rajah as his papa and mamma-in-law. The Rajah and
Ranee stayed at the palace six months, and were enter-
tained the whole of that time with feasting and music ; and
they left for their own home loaded with presents. Before
they started, however, the Ranee went to her friend, the
cobra, and said, — "You have conjured up all these beau-
tiful things to get me out of my difficulties, but my husband,
the Rajah, has enjoyed his visit so much that he will certainly
want to come here again. Then, if he returns and finds
nothing at all, he will be very angry with me." The friendly
cobra answered, — ' ' Do not fear. When you have gone twenty-
four miles on your journey, look back, and see what you
will see." So they started ; and on looking back at the end
of twenty-four miles, saw the whole of the splendid palace
in flames, the fire reaching up to heaven. The Rajah re-
turned to see if he could help anybody to escape, or invite
them in their distress to his court ; but he found that all
was burnt down — not a stone nor a living creature remained !

Then he grieved much over the sad fate of his parents-in-
law.

When the party returned home, the Rajah's brother
said to him, — " Where did you get these magnificent pre-

24 Old Dcccan Days.

sents ? " He replied, — " They are gifts from my father
and mother-in-law." At this news the Rajah's brother went
home to his wife very discontented, and asked her why she
had never told him of her parents, and taken him to see
them, whereby he might have received rich gifts as well as
his brother. His wife then went to her sister, and a.sked
how she had managed to get all the things. But the Ranee
said, — " Go away, you wicked woman. I will not speak to
you. You killed the poor dog, our mother."

But afterwards she told her all about it.

The sister then said, — " I shall go and see the cobra, and
get presents too." The Ranee answered, — " You can go if
you like."

So the sister ordered her palanquin, and told her husband
she was going to see her parents, and prepare them for a
visit from him. When she reached the ants' nest, she saw
the cobra there, and she went and put her finger in his
mouth, and the cobra bit her, and she died.

III.
BRAVE SEVENTEE BAI.

Siu Rajah/"* who reigned long years ago in the country
of Agrabrum, had an only son, to whom he was passionately
attached. The Prince, whose name was Logedas, was young
and handsome, and had married the beautiful Princess,
Parbuttee Bai.

Now it came to pass that Siu Rajah's Wuzeerf had a
daughter called Seventee Bai (the Daisy Lady), who was as
fair as the morning, and beloved by all for her gentleness
and goodness ; and when Logedas Rajah saw her, he fell in
love with her, and determined to marry her. But when Siu
Rajah heard of this, he was very angry, and sent for his son,
and said : " Of all that is rich and costly in my kingdom I
have withheld nothing from you, and in Parbuttee Bai you
have a wife as fair as heart could wish ; nevertheless, if you
are desirous of having a second wife, I freely give you leave
to do so : there are daughters of many neighbouring kings
who would be proud to become your Queen, but it is beneath
your dignity to marry a Wuzeer's daughter ; and, if you do,
my love for you shall not prevent my expelling you from the
* Or Singh Rajah, the Lion Kmg. t Or Vizier.

26 Old Dcccan Days.

kingdom." Logedas did not heed his father's threat, and he
married Seventee Bai; which the Rajah learning, ordered him
immediately to quit the country ; but yet, because he loved
him much, lie gave Logedas many elephants, camels, horses,
palanquins, and attendants, that he might not need help on
the journey, and that his rank might be apparent to all.

So Logedas Rajah and his two young wives set forth on
their travels. Before, however, they had gone veiy far, the
Prince dismissed the whole of his retinue, except the
elephant on which he himself rode, and the palanquin
carried by two men, in which his wives travelled. Thus,
almost alone, he started through the jungle in search of a
new home \ but, being wholly ignorant of that part of the
country, before they had gone very far they lost their way. The
poor Princesses were reduced to a state of great misery ; day
after day they wandered on, living on roots, or wild berries,
and the leaves of trees pounded down ; and by night they
were terrified by the cries of wild beasts in search of prey,
Logedas Rajah became more melancholy and desponding
every day; until, one night, maddened by the thought of his
wives' sad condition, and unable longer to bear the sight of their
distress, he got up, and casting aside his royal robes, twisted a
coarse handkerchief about his head after the manner of a fa-
keer's (holy beggar's) turban, and throwing a long woollen
cloak around him, ran away in disguise into the jungle.

A little while after he had gone, the Wuzeer's daughter
awoke and found Parbuttee Bai crying bitterly. "Sister
dear," said she, " what is the matter?" "Ah, sister,"
answered Parbuttee Bai, " I am crying because in my
dreams I thought our husband had dressed himself like a

Brave Scventcc Bai. 27

fakeer, and run away into the jungle ; and I awoke, and
found it was all true : he has gone, and left us here alone.
It would have been better we had died, than that such a
misfortune should have befallen us." " Do not cry," said
Seventee Bai: "if we cry, we are lost, for the palkee-bearers *
will think we are only two weak women, and will run away,
and leave us in the jungle, out of which we can never get
by ourselves. Keep a cheerful mind, and all will be well :
who knows but we may yet find our husband. Meanwhile,
I will dress myself in his clothes, and take the name of
Seventee Rajah, and you shall be my wife ; and the palkee-
bearers will think it is only I that have been lost ; and it
will not seem very wonderful to them that in such a place
as this, a wild beast should have devoured me."

Then Parbuttee Bai smiled and said, " Sister, you speak
well ; you have a brave heart. I will be your little wife."

So Seventee Bai dressed herself in her husband's clothes,
and next day she mounted the elephant as he had done,
and ordered the bearers to take up the palkee in which
Parbuttee Bai was, and again attempt to find their way out
of the jungle. The palkee-bearers wondered much to
themselves what had become of Seventee Bai, and they
said to one another, " How selfish and how fickle are the
rich ! See now our young Rajah, who married the Wuzeer's
daughter and brought all this trouble on himself thereby
(and in truth 'tis said she was a beautiful lady), he seemed
to love her as his own soul ; but now that she has been
devoured by some cruel animal in this wild jungle, he
appears scarcely to mourn her death."

* I.e., palanquin-bearers.

28 Old Dcccan Days.

After journeying for some days under the wise direction
of the Wuzeer's daughter, the party found themselves getting
out of the jungle, and at last they came to an open plain, in
the middle of which was a large city. When the citizens
saw the elephant coming they ran out to see who was on it,
and returning, told their Rajah that a veiy handsome Rajah,
richly dressed, was riding towards the city, and that he
brought with him his wife — a most lovely Princess. Where-
upon the Rajah of that country sent to Seventee Bai, and
asked her who she was, and why she had come ? Seventee
Bai replied, " JNIy name is Seventee Rajah. My father was
angry with me, and drove me from his kingdom ; and I and
my wife have been wandering for many days in the jungle,
where we lost our way."

The Rajah and all his Court thought they had never seen
so brave and royal looking a Prince ; and the Rajah said,
that if Seventee Rajah would take service under him, he
would give him as much money as he liked. To whom the
Wuzeer's daughter replied, " I am not accustomed to take
service under anybody ; but you are good to us in receiving
us courteously and offering us your protection ; therefore,
give me whatever post you please, and I will be your faithful
servant." So the Rajah gave Seventee Bai a salary of
^24,000 a-year and a beautiful house, and treated her with
the greatest confidence, consulting her in all matters of im-
portance, and entrusting her with many State affairs ; and
from her gentleness and kindness, none felt envious at her
good fortune, but she was beloved and honoured by all: and
thus these t\vo Princesses lived for twelve years in that city.
No one suspected that Seventee Bai was not the Rajah she

Brave Scvcntcc Bai. 29

pretended to be, and she most strictly forbade Parbuttee Bai's
making a great friend of anybody, or admitting any one to
her confidence — for, she said, " Who knows, then, but some
day you may unawares reveal that I am only Seventee Bai ;
and, though I love you as my very sister, if that were told by
you, I would kill you with my own hands."

Now the King's palace was on the side of the city nearest
to the jungle, and one night the Ranee * was awakened by
loud and piercing shrieks coming from that direction, so she
woke her husband, and said, "I am so frightened by that
terrible noise that I cannot sleep. Send some one to see
what is the matter." And the Rajah called all his attend-
ants, and said, " Go down towards the jungle and see what
that noise is about." But they were all afraid, for the night
was very dark, and the noise very dreadful — and they said
to him : " We are afraid to go. We dare not do so by our-
selves. Send for this young Rajah who is such a favourite
of yours, and tell him to go. He is brave. You pay him
more than you do us all. What is the good of your paying
him so much unless he can be of use when he is wanted ? "
So they all went to Seventee Bai's house, and when she
heard what was the matter, she jumped up, and said she
would go down to the jungle to see what the noise was.

This noise had been made by a Rakshas,f who was
standing under a gallows on which a thief had been hanged
the day before. He had been trying to reach the corpse with

* Queen.

t Gigantic demoniacal ogres who can at will assume any shape.
Their chief terrestial delight is said to be digging dead bodies out of
their graves, and devouring them.

30 Old Dcccan Days.

his cruel claws ; but it was just too high for him, and he was
howling with rage and disappointment. When, however, the
Wuzeer's daughter reached the place no Rakshas was to be
seen; but in his stead, a very old woman, in a wonderful glit-
tering saree,* sitting wringing her withered hands under the
gallows tree, and above — the corpse, swaying about in the
night wind. "Old woman," said Seventee Bai, "what is the
matter?" "Alas!" said the Rakshas (for it was he), "my
son hangs above on that gallows. He is dead, he is dead !
and I am too bent with age to be able to reach the rope and
cut his body down." "Poor old woman," said Seventee Bai;
"get upon my shoulders, and you will then be tall enough to
reach your son." So the Rakshas mounted on Seventee
Bai's shoulders, who held him steady by his glittering saree.
Now, as she stood there, Seventee Bai began to think the
old woman was a very long time cutting the rope round the
dead man's neck ; and just at that moment the moon shone
out from behind a cloud, and Seventee Bai, looking up, saw,
that instead of a feeble old woman, she was supporting on
her shoulders a Rakshas, who was tearing down portions of
the flesh and devouring it. Horror stricken, she sprang
back, and with a shrill scream the Rakshas fled away, leaving
in her hands the shining saree.

Seventee Bai did not choose to say anything about this
adventure to the Ranee, not wishing to alarm her, so she
merely returned to the palace, and said that the noise was
made by an old woman whom she had found crying under
the gallows. She then returned home, and gave the bright
saree to Parbuttee Bai.

* Dress.

Brave Scvcntcc Bai. 31

One fine day, some time after this, two of the Rajah's
Httle daughters thought they would go and see Parbuttee
Bai; and as it happened, Parbuttee Bai had on the Rakshas'
saree, and was standing by the half-closed window shutters
looking out, when the Princesses arrived at her house. The
little Princesses were quite dazzled by the golden saree, and
running home said to their mother, " That young Rajah's
wife has the most beautiful saree we ever saw. It shines
like the sun, and dazzles one's eyes. We have no sarees
half so beautiful, aiid although you are Ranee you have
none so rich as that. Why do you not get one too ? "

When the Ranee heard about Parbuttee Bai's saree she
was ver}^ eager to have one like it ; and she said to the
Rajah, "Your sei-vant's wife is dressed more richly than your
Ranee. I liear Parbuttee Bai has a saree more costly than
any of mine. Now, therefore, I beg you to get me one like
hers ; for I cannot rest until I have one equally costly."

Then the Rajah sent for Seventee Bai, and said, "Tell me
where your wife got her beautiful golden saree; for the Ranee
desires to have one like it." Seventee Bai answered, "Noble
master, that saree came from a very far country — even the
country of the Rakshas. It is impossible to get one like it
here ; but if you will give me leave I will go and search for
their country, and if I succeed in finding it, bring you home
sarees of the same kind. And the Rajah was very much
pleased, and ordered Seventee Bai to go. So she returned
to her house and bade good-bye to Parbuttee Bai, and
warned her to be discreet and cautious ; and then mounting
her horse, rode away in search of the Rakshas' country.

Seventee Bai travelled for many days through the jungle,

32 Old Dcccan Days.

going one hundred miles every day, and staying to rest
every now and then at httle villages on her road. At last
one day, after having gone several hundred miles, she came
to a fine city situated on the banks of a beautiful river, and
on the city walls a proclamation was painted in large letters.
Seventee Bai inquired of the people what it meant, who
told her that it was to say the Rajah's daughter would
marry any man who could tame a certain pony belonging
to her father, which was very vicious,

"Has no one been able to manage it?" asked Seventee
Bai. " No one," they said. " Many have tried, but failed
miserably. The pony was bom on the same day as the
Princess. It is so fierce that no one can approach it ; but
when the Princess heard how wild it was, she vowed she
would marry no one who could not tame it. Every one
who likes is free to tr}-." Tlien Seventee Bai said, " Show
me the pony to-morrow. I think I shall be able to tame
it." They answered, " You can try if you like, but it is very
dangerous, and you are but a youth." She replied, " God
gives his strength to the weak. I do not fear." So she
went to sleep, and early next morning they beat a drum all
round the town to let every one know that another man
was going to try and tame the Rajah's pony, and all the
people flocked out of their houses to see the sight. The
pony was in a field near the river, and Seventee Bai ran up
to it, as it came running towards her, intending to trample her
to death, and seized it firmly by the mane, so that it could
neither strike her with its fore legs nor kick her. The pony
tried to shake her oft", but Seventee Bai clung firmly on, and
finally jumped on its back; and when the pony found that it

Brave Scvcntcc Bai. 33

was mastered, it became quite gentle and tame. Then
Seventee Bai, to show how completely she had conquered,
put spurs to the pony to make it jump the river, and the
pony immediately sprang up in the air and right across the
river (which was a jump of three miles), and this it did
three times (for it was strong and agile, and had never been
ridden before) ; and when all the people saw this they
shouted for joy, and ran down to the river bank and
brought Seventee Bai, riding in triumph on the pony, to see
the Rajah. And the Rajah said, " Oh, best of men, and
worthy of all honour, you have won my daughter." So he
took Seventee Bai to the palace, and paid her great honour,
and gave her jewels, and rich clothes, and horses and
camels innumerable. The Princess also came to greet the
winner of her hand. Then they said, " To-morrow shall be
the wedding day," But Seventee Bai rephed, "Great Rajah
and beautiful Princess, I am now going on an important
errand of my own Rajah's ; let me, I pray you, first accom-
plish the duty on which I am bound, and on my way home
I will come through this city and claim my bride." At
this they were both pleased, and the Rajah said, " It is
well spoken. Do not let us hinder you keeping faith with
your own Rajah. Go your way. We shall eagerly await
your return, when you shall claim the Princess and all
your possessions, and we will have such a gay wedding
as was not since the world began." And they went out
with her to the borders of their land, and showed her on
her way.

So the Wuzeer's daughter travelled on in search of the
Rakshas' countr}^, until at last one day she came in sight of

34 Old Dcccan Days.

another fine large town. Here she rested in the house for
travellers for some days. Now the Rajah of this country
had a very beautiful daughter, who was his only child, and
for her he had built a spendid bath. It was like a little
sea, and had high marble walls all round, with a hedge
of spikes at the top of the walls — so high, that at a distance
it looked like a great castle. The young Princess was very
fond of it, and she vowed she would only marry a man
who could jump across her bath on horseback. This had
happened some years before, but no one had been able to
do it, which grieved the Rajah and Ranee very much ; for
they wished to see their daughter happily married. And
they said to her, " We shall both be dead before you get
a husband. What folly is this ; to expect that any one
should be able to jump over those high marble walls, with
the spikes at the top." The Princess only answered,
" Then I will never marry. It matters not ; I will never
have a husband who has not jumped those walls."

So the Rajah caused it to be proclaimed throughout the
land, that he would give his daughter in marriage, and great
riches, to whoever could jump, on horseback, over the Prin-
cess's bath.

All this Seventee Bai learnt as soon as she airived in the
town, and she said, " To-morrow I will try and jump over
the Princess's bath." The country people said to her, " You
speak foolishly : it is quite impossible." She replied,
" Heaven, in which I trust, will help me." So next day she
rose up, and saddled her horse, and led him in front of the
palace, and there she sprang on his back, and, going at
full gallop, leapt over the marble walls, over the spikes high

Brave Scvcnlcc Bai.

35

up in the air, and down on to the ground on the other side
of the bath ; and this she did tliree times, which, when the
Rajah saw, he w^as filled with joy, and sent for Seventee
Bai, and said, " Tell me your name, brave Prince ; for you
are the only man in the world, — you have won my daughter."
Then the Wuzeer's daughter replied, " My name is Seventee
Rajah. I come from a far country on a mission from my
Rajah to the country of the Rakshas ; let me therefore, I
pray you, first do my appointed work, and if I live to return,
I will come through this country and claim my bride." To
which the Rajah consented, for he did not wish the Princess,
his daughter, to undertake so long and tiresome a journey.
It was therefore agreed that the Princess should await
Seventee Bai's return at her father's court, and that Seventee
Bai herself should immediately proceed on her journey.

From this place she went on for many, many days with-
out adventure, and traversed a dense jungle, for her brave
heart carried her through all difficulties. At last she arrived
at another large city, beautifully situated by a lake, with
blue hills rising behind it, and sheltering it from the cutting
winds ; little gardens filled with pomegranates, jasmine, and
other fragrant and lovely flowers reached down from the
city to the water's edge.

Seventee Bai, tired with her long journey, rode up to one
of the Malees'* houses, where the hospitable inmates, seeing
she was a stranger and weary, offered her food and shelter
for the night, which she thankfully accepted.

As they all sat round the fire cooking their evening meal,
Seventee Bai asked the Malee's wife about the place and

36 Old Dcccan Days.

the people, and what was going on in the town. " I\Iuch
excitement," she repHed, " has of late been caused by our
Rajah's dream, which no one can interpret." "What did
he dream?" asked Seventee Bai. " Ever since he was ten
years old," she replied, " he has dreamed of a fair tree
growing in a large garden. The stem of the tree is made
of silver, the leaves are pure gold, and the fruit is bunches
of pearls. The Rajah has inquired of all his wise men
and seers where such a tree is to be found; but they all
replied, ' There is no such tree in the world ;' wherefore he
is dissatisfied and melancholy. INIoreover, the Princess, his
daughter, hearing of her father's dream, has determined to
marry no man save the finder of this mar\-ellous tree." " It
is very odd," said Seventee Bai ; and, their supper being
over, she dragged her mattress outside the little house, (as a
man would have done,) and, placing it in a sheltered nook
near the lake, knelt down, as her custom was, to say her
prayers before going to sleep.

As she knelt there, with her eyes fixed on the dark water,
she saw, on a sudden, a glorious shining light coming slowly
towards her, and discovered, in a minute or two more, that
a very large cobra was crawling up the steps from the
water's edge, having in his mouth an enormous diamond,
the size and shape of an egg, that sparkled and shone like
a litde sun, or as if one of the stars had suddenly dropped
out of heaven. The cobra laid the diamond dovv-n at the
top of the steps, and crawled away in search of food.
Presently returning, v.-hen the night was far spent, he picked
up the diamond again, and slid down the steps with it into
the lake. Seventee Bai knew not what to make of this, but

Brave Scvcntcc Bai. ij

she resolved to return to tlie same place next night and
Avatch for the cobra.

Again she saw him bring the diamond in his mouth, and
take it away with him after his evening meal ; and again, a
third night, the same thing. Then Seventee Bai determined
to kill the cobra, and if possible secure the diamond. So
early next morning she went into the Bazaar, and ordered a
blacksmith to make her a very strong iron trap, which
should catch hold of anything it was let down upon so
firmly, as to require the strength of twelve men to
get out of it. The blacksmith did as he was ordered, and
made a very strong trap ; the lower part of it was like
knives, and when it caught hold of anything it required the
strength of twelve men to break through it and escape.

Seventee Bai had this trap hung up by a rope to a tree
close to the lake, and all around she scattered flowers and
sweet scents, such as cobras love ; and at nightfall she herself
got into the tree just above the trap, and waited for the
cobra to come as he was wont.

About twelve o'clock the cobra came up the steps from
the lake in search of food. He had the diamond in his
mouth, and, attracted by the sweet scents and flowers, in-
stead of going into the jungle, he proceeded towards the tree
in which Seventee Bai was.

When Seventee Bai saw him, she untied the rope and
let down the trap upon him ; but for fear he might not be
quite dead, she waited till morning before going to get the
diamond.

As soon as the sun was up, she went to look at her prey.
There he lay cold and dead, with the diamond, which shone

38 Old Dcccan Days.

like a mountain of light, in his mouth. Seventee Bai took it,
and, tired by her night of watching, thought she would bathe
in the lake before returning to the Malee's cottage. So
she ran and knelt down by the brink, to dip her hands and
face in the cool water; but no sooner did she touch its
surface with the diamond, than it rolled back in a wall on
either hand, and she saw a pathway leading down below the
lake, on each side of which were beautiful houses, and
gardens full of flowers, red, and white, and blue. Seventee
Bai resolved to see whither this might lead, so she walked
down the path until she came opposite a large door. She
opened it, and found herself in a more lovely garden than
she had ever seen on earth ; tall trees laden with rich
fruit grew in it, and on the boughs were bright birds singing
melodiously, Avhile the ground was covered with flowers,
among which flew many gaudy butterflies.

In the centre of the garden grew one tree more beautiful
than all the rest : the stem was of silver, the leaves 7L>ere
golden, and the fruit 7uas clusters of pearls. Swinging amid
the branches sat a young girl, more fair than any earthly
lady; she had a face like the angels which men only see in
dreams; her eyes were like two stars, her golden hair fell in
ripples to her feet ; she was singing to herself. When she
saw the stranger, she gave a little cry, and said, "Ah, my lord,
why do you come here ?" Seventee Bai answered, " May I
not come to see you, beautiful lady ?" Then the lady said,
" Oh, sir, you are welcome ; but if my father sees you here
he will kill you. I am the great Cobra's daughter, and he
made this garden for me to play in, and here I have played
these many, many years all alone, for he lets me see no one,

Brave S event cc Bai. 39

not even of our own subjects. I never saw any one before
you. Speak, beautiful Prince — tell me how you came here,
and who you are ?" Seventee Bai answered, " I am Seventee
Rajah : have no fear — the stern Cobra is no more." Then
the Lady was joyful, when she heard that the Cobra who
had tyrannised over her was dead, and she said her name
was Hera Bai (the Diamond Lady), and that she was
possessor of all the treasures under the lake ; and she said to
Seventee Bai, " Stay with me here, you shall be king of all
this country, and I will be your wife." " That cannot be,"
answered Seventee Bai, " for I have been sent on a mission
by my Rajah, and I must continue my journey until I have
accomplished it ; but if you love me as I love you, come
rather with me to my own land, and you shall be my wife."
Hera Bai shook her head : — " Not so, dearest," she said,
" for if I go with you, all the people will see how fair I am,
and they will kill you, and sell me for a slave; and so I shall
bring evil upon you, and not good. But take this flute,
dear husband (and saying this, she gave Seventee Bai a little
golden flute) ; whenever you wish to see me, or are in need
of my aid, go into the jungle and play upon it, and before
the sound ceases I will be there ; but do not play it in the
towns, nor yet amid a crowd." Then Seventee Bai put the
flute in the folds of her dress, and she bade farewell to Hera
Bai and went away.

When she came back to the Malee's cottage, the Malee's
wife said to her, " We became alarmed about you, sir ; for
two days we have seen nothing of you ; and we thought you
must have gone away. Where have you been so long ? "
Seventee Bai answered, " had business of my own in the

40 Old Dcccan Days.

Bazaar," (for she did not choose to tell the Alalee's wife
that she had been under the lake) ; " now go and in-
quire what time your Rajah's Wuzeer can gwo. a stranger
audience, for I must see him before I leave this city." So
the Malee's wife went ; whilst she was gone, Seventee
Bai went down again to the edge of the lake, and there
reverently burnt the cobra's body, both for the sake of
Hera Bai, and because the cobra is a sacred animal.
Next day, (the Malee's wife having brought a favourable
answer from the palace,) Seventee Bai went to see the\\'uzeer.
Now the Wuzeer wondered much why she came to see
him, and he said, " Who are you, and what is your errand ?"
Whereupon she answered, " I am Seventee Rajah. I am
going a long journey on my own Rajah's account, and hap-
pening to be passing through this city, I came to pay you a
friendly visit." Then the Wuzeer became quite cordial, and
talked with Seventee Bai about the country, and the city, and
the Rajah and his wonderful dream. And Seventee Bai
said, " What do you suppose your Rajah w^ould give to any
one who could show him this tree of which he has so often
dreamed?" The Wuzeer replied, "He would certainly
give him his daughter in marriage, and the half of his king-
dom." " Very well," said Seventee Bai, " tell your master
that, upon these conditions, if he likes to send for me, I
will show him the tree ; he may look at it for one night, but
he cannot have it for his own."

The Wuzeer took the message to the Rajah, and next
day the Wuzeer, the Sirdars,^- and all the great men of the
Court, went in state by the Rajah's order to the Malee's

* Nobles, or chiefs.

Brave Scvcntce Bai. 41

hut, to say that he was wilUng to grant all Seventee Rajah's
demands, and would like to see the tree that very night.
Seventee Bai thereupon promised theWuzeer that if the Rajah
would come Avith his Court, he should see the reality of his
dream. Then she went into the jungle and played on her
little flute, and Hera Bai immediately appeared as she had
seen her before, swinging in the silver tree ; and when she
heard what Seventee Bai wanted, she bade her bring the
Rajah, who should see it without fail.

When the Rajah came, he and all his Court were over-
come with astonishment ; for there, in the midst of the
desolate jungle, was a beautiful palace : fountains played in
every court, the rooms were richly decorated with thousands
and thousands of shining jewels ; a light as clear as day filled
all the place, soft music was played around by unseen hands,
sweet odours filled the air, and in the midst of the palace
garden there grew a silver tree, with golden leaves, and fruit of
pearls.

The next morning all had disappeared ; but the Rajah,
enchanted with what he had seen, remained true to his
promise, and agreed to give Seventee Bai the half of his
kingdom, and his daughter in marriage ; for, said he to him-
self, " A man who can convert the jungle into a Paradise in
one night, must surely be rich enough and clever enough to
be my son-in-law." But Seventee Bai said, " I am now em-
ployed on an errand of my Rajah's ; let me, I beg, first accom-
plish it, and on my homeward journey I will remain awhile in
this town, and will marry the Princess.'' So they gave him
leave to go, and the Rajah and all the great men of his king-
dom accompanied Seventee Bai to the borders of their land.

42 Old Dcccan Days.

Thence the Wuzeer's daughter went on journeying many
days until she had left that country far behind ; but as yet
she had gained no clue as to the way to the Rakshas' land.
In this difficulty she bethought her of Hera Bai, and played
upon the little golden flute. Hera Bai immediately appeared,
saying, " Husband, what can I do for you ? " Seventee Bai
answered, " Kind Hera, I have now been wandering in this
jungle for many days, endeavouring in vain to discover the
Rakshas' country, whither my Rajah has ordered me to go.
Gan you help me to get there ? " She answered, " You
cannot go there by yourself. For a six-months'-journey
round their land there is placed a Rakshas' guard, and not a
sparrow could find his way into the country without their
knowledge and permission. No men are admitted there,
and there are more Rakshas employed in keeping guard,
than there are trees on the face of the earth. They are in-
visible, but they would see you ; and instantly tear you to
pieces. Be, however, guided by me, and I will contrive a
way by which you may gain what you seek. Take this ring,
(and so saying, she placed a glorious ring on Seventee Bai's
finger) ; it was given me by my dearest friend, the Rajah of
the Rakshas' daughter, and will render you invisible. Look at
that mountain, whose blue head you can just see against the
sky ; you must climb to the top of that, for it stands on the
borders of the Rakshas' territory. "When there, turn the
stone on the ring I have given you, towards the palm of your
hand; and you will instantly fall through the earth into the
space below the mountain, where the Rakshas' Rajah holds
his Court, and find yourself in his daughter's presence. Tell
her you are my husband ; she will love and help you for my

Brave Scventcc Bai. 43

sake." Hera Bai so saying disappeared, and Seventee Bai
continued her journey until she reached the mountain top,
where she turned the ring round as she had been bidden,
and immediately found herself falling through the earth,
down, down, down, deeper and deeper, until at last she
arrived in a beautiful room, richly furnished, and hung
round with cloth of gold. In every direction, as far as the
eye could reach, were thousands and thousands of Rakshas,
and in the centre of the room was a gold and ivory throne,
on which sat the most beautiful Princess that it is possible to
imagine. She was tall, and of a commanding aspect ; her
black hair was bound by long strings of pearl ; her dress was
of fine spun gold, and round her waist was clasped a zone of
restless, throbbing, light-giving diamonds ; her neck and her
arms were covered with a profusion of costly jewels ; but
brighter than all shone her bright eyes, which looked full of
gentle majesty. She could see Seventee Bai, although her
attendants could not, because of the magic ring ; and as
soon as she saw her she started, and cried, " Who are you ?
How came you here ? " Seventee Bai answered, " I am
Seventee Rajah, the husband of the Lady Hera, and I have
come here by the power of the magic ring you gave her."
The Rakshas' Princess then said, " You are welcome : but
you must know that your coming is attended with much
danger ; for, did the guard placed around me by my father
know of your presence, they would instantly put you to
death, and I should be powerless to save you. Tell me why
did you come ? " Seventee Bai answered, " I came to see
you, beautiful lady; tell me your name, and how it is you are
here all alone." She replied, " I am the Rakshas' Rajah's only

44 Old Dcccan Days.

daughter, and my name is Tara Bai (the Star Lady), and
because my father loves me very much he has built this
palace for me, and placed this great guard of Rakshas all
round for many thousand miles, to prevent any one coming
in or out without his permission.

" So great is the state they keep, that I seldom see
my father and mother ; indeed, I have not seen them for
several years. Nevertheless, I will go now in person to im-
plore their protection for you ; for though I never saw King
nor Prince before, I love you very much."

So saying she arose to go to her father's court, bidding
Seventee Bai await her return.

When the Rajah and Ranee of the Rakshas heard that
their daughter was coming to see them, they were very
much surprised, and said, "What can be the matter with
our daughter. Can she be ill ? or can our Tara Bai be
unhappy in the beautiful house we have given her?" And
they said to her, " Daughter, why do you come ? what is
the matter?" She answered, "Oh my father! I come to tell
you I should like to be married. Cannot you find some
beautiful Prince to be my husband ? " Then the Rajah
laughed, and said, "You are but a child still, my daughter ;
nevertheless, if you wish for a husband, certainly, if any
Prince comes here, and asks you in marriage, we will let
you wed him." She said, " If some brave and beautiful
Prince were to come here, and get through the great guard
you have placed around the palace, would you indeed
protect him for my sake, and not allow them to tear
him in pieces?" The Rajah answered, " If such a one
come, he shall be safe." Then Tara Bai was very joyful,

Brave Scvcntce Bai. 45

and ran and fetched Seventee Bai, and said to her father
and mother, " See, here is Seventee Rajah, the young
Prince of whom I spoke." And when the Rajah and
Ranee saw Seventee Bai they were greatly astonished,
and could not think how she had managed to reach their
land, and they thought she must be very brave and wise to
have done so. And because also Seventee Bai looked a
very noble Prince, they were the more willing that she
should marry Tara Bai, and said, " Seventee Rajah, we are
willing you should be our son-in-law, for you look good and
true, and you must be brave, to have come so long and dan-
gerous a journey for your wife ; now, therefore, you shall be
married; the whole land is open to you, and all that we have
is yours, only take good care of our dear daughter, and if
ever she or you are unhappy, return here and you shall find
a home with us." So the wedding took place amidst great
rejoicings. The wedding festivities lasted twelve days, and
to it came hundreds and hundreds of thousands of Rakshas
from every country under heaven ; from the north, and the
south, and the east, and the west, from the depths of the
earth, and the uttermost parts of the sea. Troop after troop
they came flocking in, an ever-increasing crowd, from all
parts of this wide world, to be present at the marriage ot
their master's daughter.

It would be impossible to count all the rich and costly
presents that the Rakshas' Rajah and Ranee gave Tara
Bai. There were jewels enough to fill the seas ; dia-
monds and emeralds, rubies, sapphires, and pearls ; gold
and silver, costly hangings, carved ebony and ivory, — more
than a man could count in a hundred years ; for the Rajah

4^ Old Dcccan Days.

gave his daughter a guard of 100,000,000,000,000 Rakshas,
and each Rakshas carried a bundle of riches, and each
bundle was as big as a house 1 and so they took leave of
the Rakshas' Rajah and Ranee, and left the Rakshas'
countr}'.

When they got to the country of the Rajah -who had
dreamed about the silver tree, with leaves of gold, and fruit
of pearl, (because the number of their retinue was so great,
that if they had come into a country they Avould have de-
voured all that was in it like a swarm of locusts,) Seventee
Bai and Tara Bai determined that Tara Bai should stay
with the goiard of Rakshas in the jungle, on the borders of
the Rajah's dominions, and that Seventee Bai should go
to the city, as she had promised, to marry the Rajah's
daughter. And there they stayed a week, and the Rajah's
daughter Avas married with great pomp and ceremony to
Seventee Bai ; and when they left the city the Rajah gave
Seventee Bai and the bride, his daughter, horses and camels
and elephants, and rich robes and jewels innumerable ; and
he and all his court accompanied them to the borders of the
land.

Thence they went to the country where lived the
Princess whose great marble bath Seventee Bai had jumped
over; and there Seventee Bai was married to her, amid
great rejoicings, and the wedding was one of surpassing
splendour, and the wedding festivities lasted for three whole
days.

And leaving that city, they travelled on until they reached
the city where Seventee Bai had tamed the Rajah's wild
pony, and there they spent two days in great honour

Brave Seven tee Bai, 47

and splendour, and Seventee Bai married that Princess
also ; so with her five wives, — that is to say, Hera Bai the
Rajah of the Cobras' daughter, Tara Bai the Rajah of the
Rakshas' daughter, and the three other Princesses — and a
great tribe of attendants and elephants and camels and
horses, she returned to the city where she had left Par-
buttee Bai.

Now when news was brought to Seventee Bai's master,
(the friendly Rajah,) of the great cavalcade that was ap-
proaching his city, he became very much alarmed, taking
Seventee Bai for some strange Rajah who had come to
make war upon him. When Seventee Bai heard how
alamied he was, she sent a messenger to him, on a swift
horse, to say, " Be not alarmed, it is only thy servant
Seventee Rajah, returning from the errand on which thou
didst send him." Then the Rajah's heart was light, and he
ordered a royal salute to be fired, and went out with all his
court to meet Seventee Bai, and they all went together in a
state procession into the city. And Seventee Bai said to
the Rajah, " You sent your servant to the Rakshas' country
to fetch a golden saree for the Ranee. Behold, I have done
as you wish." And so saying she gave to the Rajah five
Rakshas' bundles of rich hangings and garments covered with
jewels, (that is to say, five housefuls of costly things; for each
Rakshas carried as much in the bundle on his shoulders as a
house would hold) ; and to the Wuzeer she gave two
bundles.

After this, Seventee Bai discharged almost all her immense
train of attendants, (for fear they should create a famine in the
land,) sending them to their own houses with many valuable

48 Old Deccan Days.

presents; and she took the three Princesses, her wives, to Hve
Avith her and Parbuttee Bai ; but Hera Bai and Tara Bai, on
account of their high rank and their surpassing beauty, had
a splendid palace of their own in the jungle, of which no one
knew but Seventee Bai.

Now when she again saw Seventee Bai, the Rajah's little
daughter said to her father, " Father, I do not think there is
such a brave and beautiful Prince in all the world as this
Seventee Rajah. I would rather have him for my husband than
any one else." And the Rajah said, " Daughter, I am very
willing you should marry him." So it was settled Seventee
Bai should marr)^ the little Princess; but she said to the
Rajah, " I am A\-illing to marry your daughter, but we
must have a very grand wedding ; give me time, therefore,
to send into all the countries round, and invite all their
Rajahs to be present at the ceremony." And to this the
Rajah agreed.

Now, about this time, Seventee Bai one day found Par-
buttee Bai crying, and said to her, " Little sister, why are
you unhappy?" And Parbuttee Bai answered, "O sister,
you have brought us out of all our difficulties, and won us
honour and great riches, but yet I do not feel merry ; for I
cannot help thinking of our poor husband, who is now, may
be, wandering about a wretched beggar, and I long with my
whole heart to see him again." Then Seventee Bai said,
" Well, cheer up, do not cr}- ; mind those women do not
find out I am not Seventee Rajah. Keep a good heart, and
I will try and find your husband for you." So Seventee Bai
went into the jungle palace to see Hera Bai, and said to
her, "I have a friend whom I have not seen since he

Brave Seven tec Bai. 49

became mad twelve years ago, and ran away into the jungle
disguised as a Fakeer. I should like very much to find out if
he is still alive. How can I learn?" Now Hera Bai was a
very wise Princess, and she answered, " Your best plan will
be to provide a great feast for the poor, and cause it to be
proclaimed in all lands, far and near, that you are about to
give it as a thank-offering for all the blessings God has be-
stowed on you. The poor will flock from all countries to come
to it, and perhaps among the rest you may find your friend."

Seventee Bai did as Hera Bai had advised, causing two
long tables to be spread in the jungle, whereat hundreds
of poor from all parts of the world were daily entertained ;
and every day, for six months, Seventee Bai and Parbuttee
Bai walked down the long rows of people, apparently to see
how they were all getting on, but in reality to look for
Logedas Rajah ; but they found him not.

At last one day, as Seventee Bai was going her ac-
customed round, she saw a wretched wild-looking man,
black as pitch, with tangled hair, a thin wrinkled face, and
in his hand a wooden bowl, such as Fakeers carry about to
collect broken meat and scraps of bread in, and touching
Parbuttee Bai, she said to her, " See, Parbuttee, there is
your husband." When Parbuttee Bai saw this pitiful sight
(for it was, indeed, Logedas ; but so changed and altered
that even his wives hardly recognised him) she began to cry.
Then Seventee Bai said, " Do not cry ; go home quickly. I
will take care of him." And when Parbuttee Bai was gone,
she called one of the guard and said to him, " Catch hold of
that man and put him in prison." Then Logedas Rajah said,
*' Why do you seize me ? I have done no harm to any one."

E

50 Old Dcccan Days.

But Seventee Bai ordered the guard not to heed his remon-
strances, but to take hun to prison instantly, for she did not
Avish the people around to discover how interested she was in
him. So the guard took Logedas Rajah away to lock him up.
Poor Logedas Rajah said to them, " Why has this wicked
Rajah had me taken prisoner ? I have harmed no one. I
have not fought, nor robbed ; but for twelve years I have
been a wretched beggar, living on the bread of charity.'' For
he did not tell them he was a Rajah's son, for he knew they
would only laugh at him. They replied, " You must not
call our Rajah wicked ; it is you that are wicked, and not
he, and doubtless he will have your head cut off."

When they put him in prison he begged them again to say
what was to be done to him. " Oh !" said they, "you will
certainly be hanged to-morrow morning, or perhaps, if you
like it better, beheaded, in front of the palace."

Now as soon as Seventee Bai got home, she sent for
her head servants, and said to them, " Go at once to the
prison, and order the guard to give you up the Fakeer I
gave into their charge, and bring him here in a palanquin,
but see that he does not escape." Then Seventee Bai
ordered them to lock up Logedas in a distant part of the
palace, and commanded that he should be washed, and
dressed in new clothes, and given food, and that a barber
should be sent for, to cut his hair and trim his beard. Then
Logedas said to his keepers, " See how good the Rajah is to
me ! He will not surely hang me after this." " Oh, never
fear," tliey answered ; " when you are dressed up and made
very smart, it will be a much finer sight to see you hanged
than before." Thus they tried to frighten the poor man.

Brave Scvcntcc Bai. 5 ^

After this Seventee Bai sent for all the greatest doctors in
the kingdom, and said to them, " If a Rajah wanders about
for twelve years in the jungle, until all trace of his princely-
beauty is lost, how long will it take you to restore him to his
original likeness ? " They answered, " With care and atten-
tion it may be done in six months." "Very well," said
Seventee Bai, "there is a friend of mine now in my palace
of whom this is the case. Take him and treat him well, and
at the end of six months I shall expect to see him restored
to his original health and strength."

So Logedas was placed under the doctors' care ; but all
this time he had no idea who Seventee Bai was, nor why he
was thus treated. Every day Seventee Bai came to see him
and talk to him. Then he said to his keepers, " See, good
people, how kind this great Rajah is, coming to see me
every day ; he can intend for me nothing but good." To
which they would answer, " Don't you be in a hurry ; none
can fathom the hearts of Kings. Most probably, for all this
delay, he will in the end have you taken and hanged."
Thus they amused themselves by alarming him.

Then, some day, when Seventee Bai had been more than
usually kind, Logedas Rajah would say again, " I do not
fear the Rajah's intentions towards me. Did you not notice
how very kind he was to-day ? " And to this his keepers
would reply —

" Doubtless it is very amusing for him, but hardly we
should think so for you. He will play with you probably
for some time (as a cat does with a mouse) ; but in three
months is the Rajah's birthday ; most likely he is keeping
you to kill you then." And so the time wore on.

E 2

52 Old Dcccan Days.

Seventee Bai's birthday was fixed for the day also of her
wedding with the Rajah's daughter. For this great event
immense preparations were made all over the plain outside
the city walls. Tents made of cloth of gold were pitched
in a great square, twelve miles long and twelve miles broad,
for the accommodation of the neighbouring Rajahs, and in
the centre was a larger tent than all the rest, covered with
jewels, and shining like a great golden temple, in which they
were to assemble.

Then Seventee Bai said to Parbuttee Bai, " On my birth-
day I will restore you to your husband." But Parbuttee Bai
was vexed and said, " I cannot bear the thought of him : it
is such a terrible thing to think of our once handsome hus-
band as none other than that miserable Fakeer."

Seventee Bai smiled. " In truth," she said, " I think you
will find him again altered, and for the better. You cannot
think what a change rest and care have made in him ; but
he does not know who we are, and as you value my happi-
ness, tell no one now that I am not the Rajah." " Indeed
I will not, dearest sister," answered Parbuttee Bai. " I
should in truth be loath to vex you, after all you have done
for me ; for o\ving to you here have we lived happily for
twelve years like sisters, and I do not think as clever a
woman as you, was ever before bom in this world."

Amongst other guests invited to the wedding were Siu
Rajah and his wafe, and the Wuzeer, Seventee Bai's father,
and her mother. Seventee Bai arranged thrones for them
all, made of gold, and emeralds, and diamonds, and rubies,
and ivory. And she ordered that in the seat of honour on
her left-hand side should be placed the Wuzeer, her father,

Brave Scvcntee Bai. 5 3

and next to him her mother, and next to them Siu Rajah
and his wife, and after them all the other Rajahs and
Ranees,* according to their rank ; and all the Rajahs and
Ranees wondered much that the place of honour should
have been given to the stranger Wuzeer. Then Seventee
Bai took her most costly Rajah dress, and ordered that
Logedas Rajah should be clothed in it, and escorted to the
tent \ and she took off the man's clothes which she had
worn, and dressed herself in a saree.t When she was
dressed in it she looked a more lovely woman than she had
before looked a handsome man. And she went to the tent
leading Parbuttee Bai, while with her came Hera Bai and
Tara Bai of more than mortal beauty, and the three other
Princesses clothed in the most costly robes. Then before all
the Rajahs and Ranees Seventee Bai knelt down at Logedas
Rajah's feet, and said to him, " I am your true wife. O hus-
band, have you forgotten her whom you left in the jungle
with Parbuttee Bai twelve years ago? See here she also is ;
and behold these rich jewels, these tents of gold, these
hangings of priceless worth, these elephants, camels, horses,
attendants, and all this wealth. It is all yours, as I am
yours ; for I have collected all for you."

Then Logedas Rajah wept for joy, and Siu Rajah arose
and kissed Seventee Bai, and said to her, "My noble
daughter, you have rescued my son from misery, and done
more wisely and well than v/oman ever did before. May all
honour and blessing attend you henceforth and for ever."

And the assembled Rajahs and Ranees were surprised
beyond measure, saying, " Did anyone ever hear of a woman
* Queens. + A woman's dress.

54

Old Dcccan Days.

doing so much ! " But more than any was the good Rajah
astonished, whom Seventee Bai had served so weU for twelve
years, and whose daughter she was to have married that
day, when he learnt that she was a woman ! It was then
agreed by all, that Logedas Rajah should on that day be
newly married to his two wives, Parbuttee Bai and Seventee
Bai ; and should also marry the six other beautiful Princesses
— the Princess Hera Bai, the Princess Tara Bai, the Rajah's
little daughter, and the three other Princesses ; and that he
should return with his father to his own kingdom. And the
weddings took place amid great splendour and rejoicings
unheard of; and of all the fine things that were seen and
done on that day it is impossible to tell. And afterwards
Logedas Rajah, and his eight wives, and his father and
mother, and the Wuzeer and his wife, and all their attend-
ants, returned to their own land, where they all lived very
happily ever after. And so may all who read this story live
happily too.

IV.

TRUTH'S TRIUMPH.

Several hundred years ago there was a certain Rajah who
had twelve wives, but no children — and though he caused
many prayers to be said, and presents made in temples far
and near, never a son nor a daughter had he. Now this
Rajah had a Wuzeer* who was a very, very wise old man —
and it came to pass that one day when he was travelling in
a distant part of his kingdom, accompanied by this Wuzeer
and the rest of his court, he came upon a large garden, in
Avalking round which he was particularly struck by a little
tree which grew there. It was a bringalf tree, not above
two feet in height. It had no leaves, but on it grew a hun-
dred and one bringals. The Rajah stopped to count them,
and then turning to the Wuzeer in great astonishment said,
" It is to me a most unaccountable thing — that this little
tree should have no leaves, but a hundred and one bringals
growing on it. You are a wise man, can you guess what this

* Prime Minister.

f Solanum melongena ; the egg-shaped fruit of which is a favourite
vegetable all over India,

56 Old Dcccan Days.

means ? " The Wuzeer replied, " I can interpret this marvel
to you, but if I do, you will most likely not believe me —
promise therefore that if I tell you, you will not cause me to
be killed as having told (as you imagine), a lie." The Rajah
promised, and the Wuzeer continued : " The meaning of
this little bringal tree, with the hundred and one bringals
growing on it is this. "Whoever marries the daughter of the
Malee* in charge of this garden will have a hundred and
one children — a hundred sons and one daughter." The
Rajah said, " V.'here is the maiden to be seen ? " The
Wuzeer answered, " When a number of great people like
you and all your court come into a little village like this,
the poor people, and especially the children, are frightened
and run away and hide themselves ; therefore, as long as
you stay here as Rajah you cannot hope to see her. Your
only means will be to send away your suite, and cause it to
be announced that yoii have left the place. Then, if you
walk daily in this garden you may some morning meet the
pretty Guzra Bai,f of whom I speak."

Upon this advice the Rajah acted : and one day whilst
walking in the garden he savv' the INIalee's young daughter,
a girl of twelve years old, busy gathering flowers. He went
fon\-ard to accost her, but she, seeing that he was not one
of the villagers, but a stranger, was shy, and ran home to
her father's house.

The Rajah followed — for he was very much struck with
her grace and beauty — in fact he fell in love with her as
soon as he saw her, and thought he had never seen a king's
daughter half so charming. '

* Gardener. f Flower Ghl.

TnitJis Triumph. 57

When he got to the Malee's house the door was shut ;
so he called out, " Let me in, good Malee ; I am the
Rajah, and I wish to marry your daughter." The IMalee
only laughed, and answered, " A pretty tale to tell a simple
man, indeed ! You a Rajah ! why the Rajah is miles away.
You had better go home, my good fellow, for there's no
welcome for you here ! " But the Rajah continued calling
till the Malee opened the door — who then was indeed sur-
prised, seeing it was truly no other than the Rajah — and
he asked what he could do for him.

The Rajah said, " I wish to marry your beautiful daughter
Guzra Bai." " No, no," said the Malee, " this joke won't
do. None of your Princes in disguise for me. You may
think you are a great Rajah and I only a poor Malee, but
I tell you that makes no difference at all to me. Though
you were king of all the earth I would not permit you to
come here and amuse yourself chattering to my girl, only
to fill her head with nonsense, and to break her heart."

" In truth, good man, you do me wrong," answered the
Rajah, humbly, " I mean what I say ; I wish to marry your
daughter."

" Do not think," retorted the Malee, " that I'll make
a fool of myself because I'm only a T^Ialee, and believe
what you've got to say, because you're a great Rajah !
Rajah or no Rajah is all one to me. If you mean what
you say, if you care for my daughter and v/ish to be married
to her, come and be married ; but I'll have none of your
new-fangled forms, and court ceremonies hard to be under-
stood ; let the girl be married by her father's hearth, and
under her father's roof, and let us invite to the wedding our

58 Old Dcccan Days.

old friends and acquaintance wliom we've known all our
lives, and before we ever thought of you."

The Rajah was not angry, but amused, and rather pleased
than otherwise at the old man's frankness, and he consented
to all that was desired.

The village beauty, Guzra Bai, was therefore married with
as much pomp as they could muster, but in village fashion,
to the great Rajali, who took her home with him, followed
by the tears and blessings of her parents and playmates.

The twelve Kings' daughters were by no means pleased at
this addition to the number of the Ranees ;" and they agreed
amongst themselves that it would be highly derogator)^ to
their dignity to permit Guzra Bai to associate with them,
and that the Rajah, their husband, had offered them an un-
pardonable insult in manying a Malee's daughter, which
was to be revenged upon her the very first opportunity.

Having made this league, they tormented poor Guzra Bai
so much, that, to save her from their persecutions, the Rajah
built her a little house of her own, where she lived verj'
very happily for a short time.

At last one day he had occasion to go and visit a distant
part of his dominions, but fearing his high-born wives
might ill-use Guzra Bai in his absence, at parting he gave
her a little golden bell,f saying, '• If while I am away you
are in any trouble, or any one should be unkind to you ;
ring this little bell, and wherever I am I shall instantly hear
it, and wll return to your aid."

No sooner had the Rajah gone, than Guzra Bai thought

* Queens. + " It must have been a kind of telegraph to gO'

so quick," my narrator said.

Truth's TrumipJi. 59

she would try the power of the bell. So she rang it. The
Rajah instantly appeared. " What do you want?" he said.
" Oh, nothing," she replied. " I was foolish. I could hardly
believe what you told me could be true, and thought I
would try." " Now you will believe, I hope," he said, and
went away. A second time she rang the bell. Again the
Rajah returned. " Oh, pardon me, husband," she said ; " it
was wrong of me not to trust you, but I hardly thought you
could return again from so far. " Never mind," he said,
" only do not try the experiment again." And again he
went away. A third time she rang the golden bell. " Why
do you ring again, Guzra Bai ! " asked the Rajah sternly ;
as for a third time he returned. " I don't know, indeed ;
indeed I beg your pardon," she said ; " but I know not
why, I felt so frightened." " Have any of the Ranees been
unkind to you ? " he asked. " No, none," she answered ;
"in fact, I have seen none of them." "You are a silly
child," said he, stroking her hair. "Affairs of the state call
me away. You must try and keep a good heart till my
return ;" and for the fourth time he disappeared.

A little while after this, wonderful to relate, Guzra Bai
had a hundred and one children ! a hundred boys and one
girl. When the twelve Ranees heard this, they said to each
other, " Guzra Bai, the Malee's daughter, will rank higher
than us ; she will have great power and influence as mother
to the heir to the Raj ;* let us kill these children, and tell
our husband that she is a sorceress j then will he love her
no longer, and his old affection for us will return." So these
twelve wicked Ranees all went over to Guzra Bai's house.

6o • Old Dcccan Days.

When Guzra Bai saw them coming, she feared they meant
to do her some harm, so she seized her httle golden bell,
and rang, and rang, and rang — but no Rajah came. She
had called him back so often, that he did not believe she
really needed his help. And thus the poor woman was left
to the mercy of her implacable enemies.

Now the nurse who had charge of the hundred and one
babies was an old servant of the twelve Ranees, and more-
over a very wicked woman, able and -willing to do whatever
her twelve wicked old inistresses ordered. So when they
said to her, " Can you kill these children ? " she answered,
" Nothing is easier ; I will throw them out upon the dust
heap behind the palace, where the rats and hawks and
vultures will have left none of them remaining by to-morrow
morning. " So be it," said the Ranees. Then the nurse took
the hundred and one little innocent children — the hundred
little boys and the one little girl — and threw them behind
the palace on the dust heap, close to some large rat-holes ;
and after that, she and the twelve Ranees placed a very large
stone in each of the babies' cradles, and said to Guzra Bai,
'' Oh, you evil witch in disguise, do not hope any longer to
impose by your arts on the Rajah's credulity. See, your
children have all turned into stones. See these, your pretty
babies !" — and with that they tumbled the hundred and one
stones down in a great heap on the floor. Then Guzra Bai
began to cry, for she knew it was not true ; but what could
one poor woman do against thirteen? At the Rajah's
return the twelve Ranees accused Guzra Bai of being a
witch, and the nurse testified that the hundred and one
children she had charge of, had turned into stones, and the

Trut/is Trimuph. 6i

Rajah believed them rather than Guzra Bai, and he ordered
her to be imprisoned for hfe.

Meanwhile a Bandicote* had heard the pitiful cries of
the children, and taking pity on them, dragged them all
one by one, into her hole, out of the way of kites and vul-
tures. She then assembled all the Bandicotes from far and
near, and told them what she had done, begging them to
assist in finding food for the children. Then every day a
hundred and one Bandicotes would come, each bringing
a little bit of food in his mouth, and give it to one of the
children ; and so day by day they grew stronger and stronger,
until they were able to run about, and then they used to play
of a morning at the mouth of the Bandicote's hole, running
in there to sleep every night But one fine day, v/ho should
come by but the wicked old nurse ! Fortunately, all the
boys were in the hole, and the little girl, who was playing
outside, on seeing her ran in there too, but not before the
nurse had seen her. She immediately went to the twelve
Ranees and related this, saying, " I cannot help thinking
some of the children may still be living in those rat-holes.
You had better send and have them dug out and killed."
" We dare not do that," answered they, " for fear of causing
suspicion ; but we will order some labourers to dig up that
ground and make it into a field, and that will effectually
smother any of the children who may still be alive." This
plan was approved, and forthwith carried into execution ;
but the good Bandicote, who happened that day to be out
on a foraging expedition in the palace, heard all about it
there, and immediately running home, took all the children
* A species of large rat.

62 Old D cecal I Days.

from her hole to a large well some distance off, where she
hid them in the hollows behind the steps leading down to
the well, laying one child under each step.

Here they would have been quite safe, had not the
Dhobee* happened to go do^vn to the well that day to wash
some clothes, taking with him his little girl. While her father
was drawing up water, the child amused herself running up
and down the steps of the well. Now each time her weight
pressed down a step it gave the child hidden underneath
a little squeeze. All the hundred boys bore this without
uttering a sound ; but when the Dhobee's child trod on the
step under which the little girl was hidden, she cried out,
" How can you be so cruel to me, trampling on me in this
way? Have pity on me, for I am a little girl as well as you."

When the child heard these words proceeding from the
stone, she ran in great alarm to her father, saying, " Father,
I don't know what's the matter, but something alive is cer-
tainly under those stones. I heard it speak ; but Avhether
it is a Rakshasf or an angel, or a human being, I cannot
tell." Then the Dhobee went to the twelve Ranees to tell
them the wonderful news about the voice in the well ; and
they said to each other, " ]May be it's some of Guzra Bai's
children ; let us send and have this inquired into." So
they sent some people to pull down the well, and see if
some evil spirit were not there.

Then labourers went to pull down the well. Now close to
the well was a little temple dedicated to Gunputti, J contain-
ing a small shrine, and a little clay image of the god. When
the children felt the well being pulled down they called out

* Washerman. t A Demon. J The Hindoo god of Wisdom.

Tnit/is TrimnpJi. 6^

for help and protection to Gunputti, who took pity on them
and changed them into trees growing by his temple — a hun-
dred little mango trees all round in a circle (which were the
hundred little boys) ; and a little rose-bush in the middle,
covered with red and white roses, which was the little girl.

The labourers pulled down the well, but they found nothing
there but a poor old Bandicote, which they killed. Then,
by order of the twelve wicked Ranees, they sacrilegiously
destroyed the little temple. But they found no children
there either. However the Dhobee's mischievous little
daughter had gone with her father to witness the work of
destruction, and as they were looking on, she said, " Father,
do look at all those funny little trees ; I never remember
noticing them here before." And being very inquisitive, she
started off to have a nearer look at them. There in a circle
grew the hundred little mango trees, and in the centre of
all the little rose-bush, bearing the red and white roses.

The girl rushed by the mango trees, who uttered no
words, and running up to the rose-bush began gathering
some of the flowers. At this the rose bush trembled very
much, and sighed and said, " I am a little girl as well as
you ; how can you be so cruel ? You are breaking all my
ribs." Then the child ran back to her father and said,
" Come and listen to what the rose-bush says. " And the
father repeated the news to the twelve Ranees, who ordered
that a great fire should be made, and the hundred and one
little trees be burnt in it, root and branch, till not a stick
remained.

The fire was made, and the hundred and one little trees
were dug up, and just going to be put into it, when Gunputti,

64. Old Dcccan Days.

taking pity on them, caused a tremendous storm to come
on, which put out the fire, and flooded the country and
swept the hundred and one trees into the river, where they
were carried down a long, long way by the torrent, until at
last the children were landed, restored to their own shapes,
on the river bank, in tlie midst of a wild jungle, very far
from any human habitation.

Here these children lived for ten years, happy in their
mutual love and affection. Generally every day fifty of
the boys would go out to collect roots and berries for their
food, leaving fifty at home to take care of their little sister :
but sometimes they put her in some safe place, and all
would go out together for the day : nor were they ever
molested in their excursions by bear, panther, snake,
scorpion, or other noxious creature. One day all the
brothers put their little sister safely up in a fine shady tree,
and went out together to hunt. After rambling on for some
time, they came to the hut of a savage Rakshas, who in
the disguise of an old woman had lived for many years in
the jungle. The E-akshas, angry at this invasion of her
domain, no sooner saw them than she changed them all
into croAvs. Night came on, and their little sister was
anxiously awaiting her brothers' return, when on a sudden
she heard a loud Avhirring sound in the air, and round the
tree flocked a hundred black crows, cawing and offering her
berries, and roots which they had dug up with their sharp
bills. Then the little sister guessed too truly what must
have happened, — that some malignant spirit had metamor-
phosed her brothers into this hideous shape ; and at the
sad sight she began to cry.

Truth's Triinnph. 65

Time wore on ; every morning the crows flew away to col-
lect food for her and for themselves, and every evening they
returned to roost in the branches of the high tree where she
sat the livelong day, crying as if her heart would break.

At last so many bitter tears had she shed, that they made
a little stream which flowed from the foot of the tree right
down through the jungle.

Some months after this, one fine day, a young Rajah
from a neighbouring country happened to be hunting in this
very jungle ; but he had not been very successful. Towards
the close of the day he found himself faint and weary, having
missed his way and lost his comrades, with no companion
save his dogs, who, being thirsty, ran hurriedly hither and
thither in search of water. After some time, they saw in
the distance what looked like a clear stream : the dogs
rushed there, and the tired Prince, following them, flung
himself down on the grass by the water's brink, thinking to
sleep there for the night ; and, with his hands under his
head, stared up into the leafy branches of the tree above
him. Great was his astonishment to see high up in the
air an immense number of crows, and above them all a most
lovely young girl, who was feeding them with berries and
wild fruits. Quick as thought he climbed the tree, and
bringing her carefully and gently down, seated her on the
grass beside him, saying, " Tell me, pretty lady, who you
are, and how you come to be living in this dreary place ?"
So she told him all her adventures, except that she did not
say the hundred crows were her hundred brothers. Then
the Rajah said, " Do not cry any more, fair Princess ; you
shall come home with me and be my Ranee, and my father

F

66 Old Dcccan Days.

and mother shall be yours." At this she smiled and dried
her eyes, but quickly added, " You will let me take these
crows with me, will you not ? for I love them dearly, and I
cannot go away unless they may come too." " To be sure,"
he answered. " You may bring all the animals in the jungle
with you, if you like, so you will only come."

So he took her home to his father's house, and the old
Rajah and Ranee wondered much at this jungle Lady, when
they saw her rare beauty, her modest gentle ways, and her
queenly grace. Then the young Rajah told them how she
Avas a persecuted Princess, and asked their leave to marry
her ; and because her loving goodness had won all hearts,
they gave their consent as joyfully as if she had been
daughter of the greatest of Rajahs, and brought with her a
splendid dov.'er; and they called her Draupadi Bai.'"'

Draupadi had some beautiful trees planted in front of
her palace, in which the crows, her brothers, used to live,
and she daily with her own hands boiled a quantity of rice,
which she would scatter for them to eat as they flocked
around her. Now some time after this, Draupadi Bai had
a son, who was called P..amchundra. He was a very good
boy, and his mother Draupadi Bai used to take him to
school every morning, and go and fetch him home in the
evening. But one day, when Ramchundra was about four-
teen years old, it happened that Draupadi Bai did not go
to fetch him home from school as she was wont ; and on
his return, he found her sitting under the trees in front of

* Doubtless after the beautiful Princess Draupadi, daughter of the
Rajah of Panchala, and a famous character in the great Hindoo Epic,
the "Maha Bharata."

TnttJis TriumpJi. 6"/

her palace, stroking the glossy black crows that flocked
around her, and weeping.

Then Ramchundra threw down his bundle of books, and
said to his mother, putting his elbows on her knees, and
looking up in her face, " Mammy, dear, tell me why you
are now crying, and what it is that makes you so often
sad 1 " " Oh, nothing, nothing," she answered. " Yes, dear
mother," said he, " do tell me. Can I help you ? If I can, I
will." Draupadi Bai shook her head : " Alas, no, my son,"
she said, " you are too young to help me ; and as for my
grief, I have never told it to any one. I cannot tell it to you
now." But Ramchundra continued begging and praying
her to tell him, until at last she did ; relating to him all her
own and his uncles' sad history ; and, lastly, how they had
been changed by a Rakshas into the black crows he saw
around him. Then the boy sprang up and said, " Which
way did your brothers take when they met the Rakshas ? "
" How can I telH" she asked. " Why," he answered, " I
thought, perhaps, you might remember on which side they
returned that first night to you, after being bewitched ? "
" Oh," she said, " they came towards the tree from that part
of the jungle which lies in a straight line behind the palace."
" Very well," cried Ramchundra, joyfully; " I also will go
there, and find out this wicked old Rakshas, and learn by
what means they may be disenchanted. " No, no, my son,"
she answered, " I cannot let you go : see, I have lost
father and mother, and these my hundred brothers ; and
now, if you fall into the Rakshas' clutches as vv-ell as they,
and are lost to me, what will life have worth living for ? "
To this he replied, " Do not fear for me, mother ; I will

F 2

68 Old Dcccan Days.

be wary and discreet." And, going to his father, he said,
" Father, it is time I should see something of the world. I
beg you to permit me to travel and see other lands." The
Rajah answered, " You shall go. Tell me what attendants
you would like to accompany you ? " Give me," said
Ramchundra, " a horse to ride, and a groom to take care
of it." The Rajah consented, and Ramchundra set off
riding towards the jungle; but as soon as he got there, he
sent his horse back by the groom with a message to his
parents, and proceeded alone, on foot.

After wandering about for some time, he came upon a
small hut, in which lay an ugly old woman fast asleep. She
had long claws instead of hands, and her hair hung down
all around her in a thick black tangle. Ramchundra
knew, by the whole appearance of the place, that he must
have reached the Rakshas' abode of which he was in search,
so, stealing softly in, he sat down, and began shampooing
her head. At last the Rakshas woke up. " You dear litde
boy," she said, " do not be afraid ; I am only a poor old
woman, and will not hurt you. Stay with me, and you shall
be my servant." This she said not from any feeling of
kindness or pity for Ramchundra, but merely because she
thought he might be helpful to her. So the young Rajah
remained in her service, determining to stay there till he
should have learnt from her all that he wished to know.

Thus one day he said to her, " Good mother, what is the
use of all those little jars of water you have arranged round
your house?" She answered, "That water possesses
certain magical attributes ; if any of it is sprinkled on
people enchanted by me, they instantly resume their former

Trutlis Triunipli. 69

shape." " And what," he contuiued, '• is the use of your
Avand ? " " That," she rephed, " has many supernatural
powers : for instance, by simply uttering your wish, and
waving it in the air, you can conjure up a mountain, a
river, or a forest, in a moment of time."

Another day Ramchundra said to her, " Your hair, good
mother, is dreadfully tangled ; pray let me comb it." " No,"
she said, " you must not touch my hair : it would be
dangerous ; for every hair has power to set the jungle on
fire." " How is that?" he asked. She replied, " The least
fragment of my hair thrown in the direction of the jungle
would instantly set it in a blaze." Having learnt all this,
one day when it was very hot, and the old Rakshas was
drowsy, Ramchundra begged leave to shampoo her head,
which speedily sent her to sleep ; then, gently pulling out
two or three of her hairs, he got up, and taking in one hand
her wand, and in the other two jars of the magic water, he
stealthily left the hut ; but he had not gone far before she
woke up, and, instantly divining what he had done, pursued
him with great rapidity. Ramchundra looking back and
perceiving that she was gaining upon him, waved the en-
chanted wand, and created a great river, which suddenly
rolled its tumultuous waves between them ; but, quick as
thought, the Rakshas swam the river.

Then he turned, and waving the wand again, caused a
high mountain to rise between them ; but the Rakshas
climbed the mountain. Nearer she came, and yet nearer ;
each time he turned to use the wand and put obstacles
in her way, the delay gave her a few minutes' advantage, so
that he lost almost as much as he gained. Then, as a last

^'

70 Old Dcccan Days.

resource, he scattered the hairs he had stolen, to the winds,
and, instantly, the jungle on the hill side, through which the
Rakshas was coming, was set in a blaze ; the fire rose higher
and higher, the wicked old Rakshas was consumed by the
flames, and Ramchundra pursued his journey in safety until
he reached his father's palace. Draupadf Bai Avas over-
joyed to see her son again, and he led her out into the gar-
den, and scattered the magic water on the hundred black
crows, which instantly recovered their human forms, and
stood up one hundred fine, handsome, young men.

Then were there rejoicings throughout the country,
because the Ranee's brothers had been disenchanted ; and
the Rajah sent out into all neighbouring lands to invite
their Rajahs and Ranees to a great feast in honour of his
brothers-in-law.

Among others who came to the feast was the Rajah
Draupadi Bai's fixther, and the twelve wicked Ranees his
wives.

When they were all assembled, Draupadf arose, and
said to him, " Noble sir, we had looked to see your wife
Guzra Bai with you. Pray you tell us wherefore she has
not accompanied you ? " The Rajah was much surprised
to learn that Draupadi Bai knew anything about Guzra
Bai, and he said, " Speak not of her, she is a wicked
woman ; it is fit that she should end her days in prison."
But Draupadi I?ai and her husband, and her hundred
brothers, rose and said, " We require, O Rajah, that you
send home instantly, and fetch hither that much injured
lady, which, if you refuse to do, your wives shall be im-
prisoned, and you ignominiously expelled this kingdom."

TrutJis Triumph. Ji

The Rajah could not guess what the meaning of this
Avas, and thought they merely wished to pick a quarrel with
him ; but not much caring whether Guzra Bai came or not,
he sent for her as was desired. When she arrived, her
daughter Draupadi Bai, and her hundred sons, with Drau-
padi Bai's husband and the young Ramchundra, Avent out
to the gate to meet her, and conducted her into the palace
with all honour. Then, standing around her, they turned
to the Rajah her husband, and related to him the story of
their lives ; how that they were his children, and Guzra Bai
their mother ; how she had been cruelly calumniated by the
twelve wicked Ranees, and they in constant peril of their
lives ; but having miraculously escaped many terrible
dangers, still lived to pay him duteous service, and to cheer
and support his old age.

At this news the whole company was very much aston-
ished. The Rajah, overjoyed, embraced his wife Guzra Bai,
and it was agreed that she and their hundred sons should
return with him to his own land, which accordingly was
done. Ramchundra lived very happily with his father and
mother to the day of their death, when he ascended the
throne, and became a very popular Rajah ; and the twelve
wicked old Ranees, who had conspired against Guzra Bai
and her children, were, by order of the Rajah, burnt to
death. Thus truth triumphed in the end ; but so unequally
is human justice meted out, that the old nurse, who worked
their evil will, and was in fact the most guilty wretch of all,
.is said to have lived unpunished, to have died in the bosom
of her family, and to have had as big a funeral pile as any
virtuous Hindoo.

RAMA AND LUXMAN ; OR, THE
LEARNED OWL.

" With a lengthened loud halloo,
Tuwhoo, tuwhit, tuwhit, tuwhoo "

Once upon a time there was a Rajah whose name was
Chandra Rajah,'- and he had a learned Wuzeer or Minister,
named Butti. Their mutual love was so great that they
were more like brothers than master and servant. Neither
the Rajah nor the AVuzeer had any children, and both were
equally anxious to have a son. At last, in one day and one
hour, the wife of the Rajah and the wife of the AVuzeer had
each a little baby boy. They named the Rajah's son
Rama, and the son of the Wuzeer was called Luxman, and
there were great rejoicings at the birth of both. The boys
grew up and loved each other tenderly ; they were never
happy unless together ; together they went to daily school,
* Moon-Kinfr.

Rama and Liixuian ; or, The Learned Ozvl. 73

together bathed and played, and they would not eat except
from off one plate. One day, when Rama Rajah was fifteen
years old, his mother, the Ranee,* said to Chandra Rajah :
" Husband, our son associates too much with low people ;
for instance, he is always at play with the Wuzeer's son,
Luxman, which is not befitting his rank. I wish you would
endeavour to put an end to their friendship, and find him
better playmates."

Chandra Rajah replied, " 1 cannot do it, I.uxman's
father is my very good friend and Wuzeer, as his father's
father was to my father ; let the sons be the same." This
answer annoyed the Ranee, but she said no more to her
husband ; she sent, however, for all the wise people, and
seers, and conjurors in the land, and inquired of them
Avhether there existed no means of dissolving the children's
affection for each other ; they answered they knew of none.
At last one old Nautchf woman came to the Ranee and
said, " I can do this thing you wish, but for it you must
give me a great reward." Then the Ranee gave the old
woman an enormous bag full of gold mohurs,:j: and said,
" This I give you now, and if you succeed in the under-
taking I will give you as much again." So this wicked old
woman disguised herself in a very rich dress, and went to a
garden-house which Chandra Rajah had built for his son,
and where Rama Rajah and Luxman, the young Wuzeer,
used to spend the greater part of their playtime. Outside
the house was a large well and a fine garden. AVhen the old
woman arrived, the two boys were playing cards together

* Queen. f The caste to which conjurors belong,

+ Gold pieces, worth il. \os.

74 Old Dcccan Days.

in the garden close to the well. She drew near, and began
drawing water from it. Rama Rajah looking up, saw her,
and said to Luxman, " Go, see who that richly dressed
woman is, and bring me word." The Wuzeer's son did as
he was bidden, and asked the woman what she wanted.
She answered, " Nothing, oh nothing,' and nodding her
head went away ; then, returning to the Ranee, she said, " I
have done as you wished, give me the promised reward,"
and the Ranee gave her the second bag of gold. " On
Luxman's return, the young Rajah said to him, " What
did the woman want ? " Luxman answered, "She told me
she wanted nothing." " It is not true," replied the other,
angrily ; " I feel certain she must have told you something.
"Why should she come here for no purpose ? It is some
secret which you are concealing from me, I insist on know-
ing it." Luxman vainly protesting his innocence, they
quarrelled and then fought, and the young Rajah ran home
very angry to his father. " What is the matter, my son ? "
said he. " Father," he answered, " I am angry with the
Wuzeer's son. I hate that boy, kill him ; and let his eyes be
brought to me in proof of his death, or I will not eat my
dinner." Chandra Rajah was very much grieved at this,
but the young Rajah would eat no dinner, and at last his
father said to the Wuzeer, " Take your son away, and hide
him, for the boys have had a quarrel." Then he went out
and shot a deer, and showing its eyes to Rama, said to him,
" See, my son, the good Wuzeer's son has by your order
been deprived of life," and Rama Rajah was merr>', and eat
his dinner. But a while after he began to miss his kind
playmate; there was nobody he cared for to tell him

Rama and Lnxvian ; or, The Learned OzvL 75

stories and amuse him. Then for four nights ninning he
dreamed of a beautiful Glass Palace, in which dwelt a
Princess white as marble, and he sent for all the wise people
in the kingdom to interpret his dream, but none could do
it ; and, thinking upon this fair Princess and his lost friend,
he got more and more sad, and said to himself: " There is
nobody to help me in this matter. Ah ! if my Wuzeer's son
were here now, how quickly would he interpret the dream !
Oh, my friend, my friend, my dear lost friend," and when
Chandra Rajah, his father, came in, he said to him : "Show
me the grave of Luxman, son of the Wuzeer, that I also
may die there." His father replied, " What a foolish boy
you are. You first begged that the Wuzeer's son might be
killed, and now you want to die on his grave. What is all
this about ? Rama Rajah replied, " Oh ! why did you give
the order for him to be put to death ? In him I have lost
my friend and all my joy in life ; show me now his grave,
for thereon, I swear, will I kill myself." When the Rajah
saw that his son really grieved for the loss of Luxman, he
said to him, " You have to thank me for not regarding your
foolish wishes ; your old playmate is living, therefore be
friends again, for what you thought were his eyes, were but
the eyes of a deer." So the friendship of Rama and
Luxman was resumed on its former footing. Then Rama
said to Luxman, " Four nights ago I dreamed a strange
dream. I thought that for miles and miles I wandered
through a dense jungle, after which I came upon a grove of
Cocoa-nut trees, passing through which I reached one com-
pound entirely of Guava trees, then one of Soparee * trees,

* Areca Catechu, the Betel-Nut Palm.

76 Old Dcccan Days.

and lastly one of Copal trees, beyond this lay a garden of
flowers, of which the IMalee's "'■ wife gave me a bunch ;
round the garden ran a large river, and on the other side of
this, I saw a fair palace composed of transparent glass, and
in the centre of it sat the most lovely Princess I ever saw,
white as marble, and covered with rich jewels ; at the sight of
her beauty I fainted — and so awoke. This has happened now
four times, and as yet I have found no one capable of throw-
ing any light on the vision." Luxman answered, " I can tell
you. There exists a Princess exactly like her you saw in your
dreams, and, if you like, you can go and marry her." " How
can I?" said Rama; "and what is your interpretation of
the dream ? " The Wuzeer's son replied, " Listen to me,
and I will tell you. In a country very far away from this,
in the centre of a great Rajah's kingdom, there dwells his
daughter, a most fair Princess ; she lives in a glass palace.
Round this palace runs a large river, and round the river is
a garden of flowers. Round the garden are four thick groves
of trees, one of Copal trees, one of Soparee trees, one of
Guava trees, and one of Cocoa-nut trees. The Princess is
twenty-four years old, but she is not married, for she has
determined only to marry whoever can jump this river and
greet her in her crystal palace, and though many thousand
kings have essayed to do so, they have all perished
miserably in the attempt, having either been drowned
in the river, or broken their necks by falling ; thus all
that you dreamed of is perfectly true. " Can we go to this
country ? " asked the young Rajah. " Oh, yes," his friend
replied, " This is what you must do. Go tell your father

* Gardener's.

Rama and Liixvian ; or, The Learned Oivl. 77

you wish to see the world. Ask him for neither elephants
nor attendants, but beg him to lend you for the journey his
old war-horse."

Upon this Rama went to his flither, and said, " Father, I
pray you give me leave to go and travel with the Wuzeer's
son, I desire to see the world." " What would you have
for the journey, my son? " said Chandra Rajah ; " will you
have elephants and how many ? — attendants how many ? "
" Neither, father," he answered, " give me rather, I pray
you, your old war-horse, that I may ride him during the
journey." "So be it, my son," he answered, and with that
Rama Rajah and Luxman set forth on their travels. After
going many, many thousands of miles, to their joy one
day they came upon a dense grove of Cocoa-nut trees, and
beyond that to a grove of Guava trees, then to one of
Soparee trees, and lastly to one of Copal trees ; after which
they entered a beautiful garden, where the Malee's wife
presented them with a large bunch of flowers. Then they
knew that they had nearly reached the place where the fair
Princess dwelt. Now it happened that, because many kings
and great people had been drowned in trying to jump over
the river that ran round the Glass Palace where the Princess
lived, the Rajah, her father, had made a law that, in future,
no aspirants to her hand Avere to attempt the jump, except at
stated times and with his knowledge and permission, and
that any Rajahs or Princes found wandering there, contrary
to this law, were to be imprisoned. Of this the young
Rajah and the Wuzeer's son knew nothing, and having
reached the centre of the garden they found themselves on
the banks of a large river, exactly opposite the wondrous

yS Old Dcccan Days.

Glass Palace, and were just debating what further steps to
take, when they were seized by the Rajah's guard and
hurried off to prison.

" This is a hard fate," said Luxman. " Yes," sighed
Rama Rajah ; " a dismal end, in truth, to all our fine
schemes. Would it be possible, think you, to escape ? ''
" I think so," answered Luxman, " at all events, I will try."
With that he turned to the sentry who was guarding them,
and said, "We are shut in here and can't get out, here is
money for you if you will only have the goodness to call out
that the Malee's Cow has strayed away." The sentry
thought this a very easy way of making a fortune, so he
called out as he was bidden, and took the money. The
result answered Luxman's anticipations. The Malee's wife
hearing the sentry calling out, thought to herself, " AVhat,
sentries round the guard-room again ! then there must be
prisoners ; doubtless they are those two young Rajahs I met
in the garden this morning ; at least, I will endeavour to
release them." So she asked two old beggars to accompany
her, and taking with her offerings of flowers and sweetmeats,
started as if to go to a little temple which was built mthin
the quadrangle where the prisoners were kept. The sentries,
thinking she was only going with two old friends to visit
the temple, allowed her to pass without opposition. As
soon as she got within the quadrangle she unfastened the
prison door, and told the two young men (Rama Rajah and
Luxman) to change clothes with the two old beggars, which
they instantly did. Then, leaving the beggars in the cell,
she conducted Rama and Luxman safely to her house.
Wlien they had reached it she said to them, " Young

Rama and Liixnian ; or, The Learned Oiul. 79

Princes, you must know that you did very wrong in going
down to the river before having made a salaam to our
Rajah, and gained his consent ; and so strict is the law on
the subject that had I not assisted your escape, you might
have remained a long time in prison; though, as I felt
certain you only erred through ignorance, I was the more
Avilling to help you ; but to-morrow morning early you must
go and pay your respects at Court."

Next day the guards brought their two prisoners to the
Rajah, saying ; " See, O King, here are two young Rajahs
whom we caught last night v/andering near the river
contrary to your law and commandment." But when they
came to look at the prisoners, lo and behold ! they were only
two old beggars whom everybody knew and had often seen
at the Palace gate.

Then the Rajah laughed and said, " You stupid fellows,
you have been over vigilant for once ; see here your fine
young rajahs. Don't you yet know the looks of these
old beggars ? " Whereupon the guards went away much
ashamed of themselves.

Having learnt discretion from the advice of the Malee's
wife, Rama and Luxman went betimes that morning to call
at the Rajah's palace. The Rajah received them very
graciously, but when he heard the object of his journey he
shook his head, and said, " My pretty fellows, far be it
from me to thwart your intentions ; if you are really
determined to strive to win my daughter, the Princess
Bargaruttee,* but as a friend I would counsel you to desist
from the attempt, — you can find a hundred princesses else-

* A name of the Ganges.

8o Old Dcccan Days.

where willing to marry you ; why, therefore, come here,
where already a thousand Princes as fair as you have lost
their lives ? Cease to think of my daughter, she is a head-
strong girl." But Rama Rajah still declared himself
anxious to try and jump the dangerous river, whereupon the
Rajah unwillingly consented to his attempting to do so, and
caused it to be solemnly proclaimed round the town that
another Prince was going to risk his life, begging all good
men and true to pray for his success. Then Rama, having
dressed gorgeously, and niounted his father's stout war-horse,
put spurs to it and gallopped to the river. Up, up in the air,
like a bird, jumped the good war-horse, right across the river
and into the very centre courtyard of the Glass Palace of
the Princess Bargaruttee : and, as if ashamed of so poor an
exploit, this feat he accomplished three times. At this the
heart of the Rajah was glad, and he ran and patted the
brave horse, and kissed Rama Rajah, and said, " Welcome,
my son-in-law." The wedding took place amid great
rejoicings, with feasts, illuminations, and much giving of
presents, and there Rama Rajah and his wife, the Ranee
Bargaioittee, lived happily for some time. At last, one day
Rama Rajah said to his father-in-law, " Sire, I have been
very happy here, but I have a great desire to see my father,
and my mother, and my own land again." To which the
Rajah replied, " My son, you are free to go ; but I have no
son but you, nor daughter but your wife : therefore, as it
grieves me to lose sight of you, come back now and then to
see me and rejoice my heart. INIy doors are ever open to
you ; you will be always welcome."

Rama Rajah promised to return occasionally ; and then,

THE LITTLE FORTUNE-TELLERS,

Rama and Litxman ; or. The Learned OzvL 8i

being given many rich gifts by the old Rajah, and supphed
with all things needful for the journey, he, with his
beautiful wife Bargaruttee, his friend the young Wuzeer, and
a great retinue, set out to return home. Before going,
Rama Rajah and Luxman richly rewarded the kind Malee's
wife, who had helped them so ably. On the first evening of
their march the travellers reached the borders of the
cocoanut grove, on the outskirts of the jungle ; here they
determined to halt and rest for the night. Rama Rajah
and the Ranee Bargaruttee went to their tent ; but Luxman
(whose tender love for them was so great, that he usually
watched all night through, at their door), vv-as sitting under a
large tree close by, when two little owls flew over his head,
and perching on one of the highest branches, began chatter-
ing to each other.* The Wuzeer's son, who ^vas in many
ways wiser than most men, could understand their language.
To his surprise he heard the little lady owl say to her
husband, " I wish you would tell me a story, my dear, it is
such a long time since I have heard one." To which her
husband, the other little owl, answered, " A story ! what
story can I tell you ? Do you see these people encamped
under our tree ? Would you like to hear their story ? " She
assented ; and he began, " See first this poor Wuzeer, he is
a good and faithful man, and has done much for this young
Rajah, but neither has that been to his advantage heretofore,
nor will it be hereafter." At this Luxman listened more
attentively, and taking out his writing tablets determined
to note down all he heard. The little owl commenced with
the story of the birth of Rama and Luxman, of their friend-

* See Notes at the end.

82 Old Dcccan Days.

ship, their quaiTel, the young Rajah's dream, and their
reconcihation, and then told of their subsequent adventures
in search of the Princess Bargaruttee, down to that veiy
day on which they were journeying home. '• And what
more has Fate in store for this poor Vv'uzeer ? " asked the
lady owl. "From this place," replied her husband, "he
will journey on with the young Rajah and Ranee, until they
get very near Chandra Rajah's dominions; there, as the
whole cavalcade is about to pass under a large banyan tree,
this Wuzeer Luxman will notice some of the topmost
branches swaying about in a dangerous manner; he will
hurry the Rajah and Ranee away from it, and the tree
(which would othenvise have inevitably killed them), will
fall to the ground with a tremendous crash : but even his
having thus saved the Rajah's life shall not avert his fate."
(All this the Wuzeer noted do^^^l.) "And what next? " said
the wife, " what next ?" " Next," continued the wise little
story-teller, " next, just as the Rajah Rama and the Ranee
Bargaruttee and ail their suite are passing under the palace
doorway, the Wuzeer will notice that the arch is insecure,
and by dragging them quickly through, prevent their being
crushed in its fall." " And what will he do after that, dear
husband?" she asked. "After that," he went on, "when
the Rajah and Ranee are asleep, and the Wuzeer Luxman
keeping guard over them, he will perceive a large cobra
slowly crawling down the wall and drawing nearer and
nearer to the Ranee. He will kill it with his sword, but
a drop of the cobra's blood shall fall on the Ranee's white
forehead. The Wuzeer will not dare to wipe the blood off
her forehead with his hand, but shall instead cover his face

Rama and Lux man ; or, The Learned Ozvl. 83

with a cloth that he may Hck it ofif with his tongue, but for
this the Rajah will be angry vv'ith him, and his reproaches
will turn this poor Wuzeer into stone."

" Will he always remain stone ? " asked the lady owl.
'• Not for ever," answered the husband, " but for eight long
years he will remain so." " And what then ? " demanded
she. " Then," answered the other, " when the young
Rajah and Ranee have a baby, it shall come to pass that
one day the child shall be playing on the floor, and to help
itself along shall clasp hold of the stony figure, and at
that baby's touch the Wuzeer will come to life again. But
I have told you enough for one night ; come, let's catch
mice, — tuwhit, tuwhoo, tuwhoo," and away flew the owls.
Luxman had written down all he heard, and it made him
heavy hearted, but he thought, " Perhaps, after all, this
may not be true." So he said nothing about it to any
living soul. Next day they continued their journey, and as
the owl had prophesied, so events fell out. For, as the
whole party were passing under a large banyan tree, the
Wuzeer noticed that it looked unsafe. " The owl spake
truly," he thought to himself, and, seizing the Rajah and
Ranee, he hurried them from under it, just as a huge limb
of the tree fell prone with a fearful crash.

A little while after, having reached Chandra Rajah's
dominions, they vv^ere just going under the great arch of the
palace court-yard, when the Wuzeer noticed some of the
stones tottering, " The owl was a true prophet," thought
he again, and catching hold of the hands of Rama Rajah
and Bargaruttee Ranee, he pulled them rapidly through, just
in time to save their Hves. " Pardon me," he said to the

84 Old Dcccan Days.

Rajah, " that unbidden I dared thus to touch your hand
and that of the Ranee, but I saw the danger imminent."
So they reached home, vdiere they were joyfully welcomed
by Chandra Rajah, the Ranee, the Wuzeer (Luxman's
father), and all the court.

A few nights afterwards, when the Rajah and Ranee
were asleep, and the young Wuzeer keeping guard over
them as he was wont, he saw a large black cobra stealthily
creeping down the wall just above the Ranee's head.
" Alas 1 " he thought, " then such is my fate, and so it
must be ; nevertheless, I will do my duty," and, taking
from the folds of his dress the history of his and the
young Rajah's life, from their boyhood down to that veiy
time (as he had -vvTitten it from the owl's narrative), he
laid it beside the sleeping Rama, and drawing his sword,
killed the cobra. A few drops of the serpent's blood fell on
the Ranee's forehead — the Wuzeer did not. dare to touch it
with his hand, but, that her sacred brovv^ might not be defiled
with the vile cobra's blood, he reverently covered his face
and mouth with a cloth to lick the drops of blood away.
At this moment the Rajah started up, and seeing him, said :
*' O Wuzeer, Wuzeer, is this well done of you ? O Luxman,
who have been to me as a brother, who have saved me from
so many difficulties, why do you treat me thus ? to kiss her
holy forehead. If indeed you loved her (as who could
help it ?), could you not have told me v.-hen we first saw her
in that Glass Palace, and I would have exiled myself that
she might be }-our wife. O my brother, my brother, why
did you mock me thus ? " The R.ajah had buried his face
in his hands, he looked up, he turned to the Wuzeer, but

Ravi a and Lux man ; or, The Learned Oivl. 85

from him came neither answer nor reply. He had become a
senseless stone. Then Rama for the first time perceived
the roll of paper v/hich Luxman had laid beside him, and
when he read in it of what Luxman had been to him from
boyhood ; and of the end : his bitter grief broke through
all bounds ; and, falling at the feet of the statue, he clasped
its stony knees and wept aloud. AVhen daylight dawned
Chandra Rajah and the Ranee found Rama still weeping
and hugging the stone, asking its forgiveness with penitent
cries and tears. Then they said to him, " What is this you
have done ? " When he told them, the Rajah his father
v/as very angry, and said : " Was it not enough that you
should have once before unjustly desired the death of this
good man, but that now by your rash reproaches you should
have turned him into stone ? Go to, you do but continually
what is evil."

Now eight long years rolled by without the Wuzeer
returning to his original form, although eveiy day Rama
Rajah and Bargaruttee Ranee would watch beside him,
kissing his cold hands, and adjuring him by all endearing
names to forgive them and return to them again. When
eight years had expired, Rama and Bargaruttee had a child ;
and from the time it was nine months old and first began
to try and crawl about, the father and mother would sit
and watch beside it, placing it near the Wuzeer's statue, in
hopes that the baby would some day touch it as the owl had
foretold.

But for three months they watched in vain. At last, one
day when the child was a year old, and was trying to walk,
it chanced to be close to the statue, and tottering on its

86 Old Dcccan Days.

unsteady feet, stretched out its tiny hands and caught hold
of the foot of the statue. The Wuzeer instantly came back
to life, and stooping down seized the little baby who had
rescued him, in his arms, and kissed it. It is impossible to
describe the delight of Rama Rajah and his wife at regain-
ing their long-lost friend. The old Rajah and Ranee
rejoiced also, with the Wuzeer (Luxman Wuzeer's father),
and his mother.

Then Chandra Rajah said to the Wuzeer : " Here is my
boy happy with his wife and child, while your son has neither ;
go fetch him a wife, and we will have aright merry wedding."
So the Wuzeer fetched for his son a kind and beautiful wife,
and Chandra Rajah and Rama Rajah caused the wedding
of Luxman to be grander than that of any great Rajah before
or since, even as if he had been a son of the royal house,
and they all lived very happy ever after, as all good fathers,
and mothers, and husbands, and wives, and children do.

VI.

J^

'ily^^-t^

U/>vA'^M

C^L\^L^4j

LITTLE SURYA BAL

A POOR iviilkwoman was once going into the town with
cans full of milk to sell. She took with her her little
daughter, (a baby of about a year old,) having no one in
whose charge to leave her at home. Being tired, she sat
down by the road side, placing the child and the cans full
of milk beside her ; when, on a sudden, two large eagles
flew over-head ; and one, swooping down, seized the child,
and flew away with her out of the mother's sight.

Very far, far away the eagles carried the little baby ; even
beyond the borders of her native land, until they reached
their home in a lofty tree. There the old eagles had built
a great nest ; it was made of iron and wood, and was as
big as a little house ; there was iron all round, and to get in
and out you had to go through seven iron doors.

In this stronghold they placed the little baby, and because
she was like a young eaglet they called her Sur}-a Bai (The
Sun Lady). The eagles both loved the child ; and daily they

88 Old Dcccan Days.

flew into distant countries to bring her rich and precious
things. Clothes that had been made for 2:)rincesses, precious
jewels, wonderful playthings, all that was most costly and rare.

One day, when Surya Bai Avas twehe years old, the old
husband Eagle said to his wife, " Wife, our daughter has
no diamond ring on her little finger, such as princesses
wear; let us go and fetch her one." "Yes," said the other
old Eagle ; " but to fetch it we must go very far." " True,"
rejoined he, " such a ring is not to be got nearer than
the Red Sea, and that is a twelvemonth's journey from
here ; nevertheless we will go.'' So the Eagles started off,
leaving Surya Bai in the strong nest, with twelve months'
provisions (that she might not be hungry whilst they were
away), and a little dog and cat to take care of her.

Not long after they v/ere gone, one day the naughty little
cat stole some food from the store, for doing which Surya
Bai punished her. The cat did not like being Avhipped, and
she was still more annoyed at having been caught stealing ;
so, in revenge, she ran to the fireplace (they were obliged
to keep a fire always burning in the Eagle's nest, as Sur}-a
Bai never went down from the tree, and would not other-
wise have been able to cook her dinner), and put out the
fire. When the little girl saw this, she was much vexed, for
the cat had eaten their last cooked provisions, and she did
not know what they were to do for food. For three whole
days Sur^'a Bai puzzled over the difficulty, and for three
vv'hole days she, and the dog, and the cat, had nothing to
eat. At last she thought she would climb to the edge of
the nest, and see if she could see any fire in the country
below ; and, if so, she would go dov/n and ask the people

Little Surya Bai. 89

who lighted it, to give her a little with which to cook her
dinner. So she climbed to the edge of the nest. Then,
very far away on the horizon, she saw a thin curl of blue
smoke. So she let herself down from the tree, and all day
long she walked in the direction whence the smoke came.
Towards evening she reached the place"; and found it rose
from a small hut in which sat an old Avoman warming her
hands over a fire. Now, though Surya Bai did not know it,
she had reached the Rakshas' "'•■ countiy, and this old woman
was none other than a wicked old Rakshas, who lived with
her son in the little hut. The young Rakshas, however, had
gone out for the day. When the old Rakshas saw Surya
Bai, she was much astonished, for the girl was beautiful as
the Sun, and her rich dress was resplendent with jewels;
and she said to herself, " How lovely this child is ; what a
dainty morsel she would be ! Oh, if my son were only here
we would kill her, and boil her, and eat her. I will try and
detain her till his return." Then, turning to Surya Bai, she
said, " Who are you, and what do you want ? " Surya Bai
answered, " I am the daughter of the great Eagles, but they
have gone a far journey, to fetch me a diamond ring,
and the fire has died out in the nest. Give me, I pray you,
a little from your hearth." The Rakshas replied, " You
shall certainly have some, only first pound this rice for me,
for I am old, and have no daughter to help me." Then
Surya Bai pounded the rice, but the young Rakshas had not
returned by the time she had finished ; so the old Rakshas
said to her, " If you are kind, grind this corn for me, for it is
hard work for my old hands." Then she ground the com,

* Demoniacal Oq;i"es'.

90 Old Dcccan Days.

but still the young Rakshas came not ; and the old Ralishas
said to her, " Sweep the house for me first, and then I will
give you the fire." So Surj'a Bai swept the house ; but still
the young Rakshas did not come.

Then his mother said to Surya Bai, " "Why should you be
in such a hurry to go home? fetch me some water from the
Avell, and then you shall have the fire." And she fetched
the water. "When she had done so, Sur}-a Bai said, " I have
done all your bidding, now give me the fire, or I will go
elsewhere and seek it."

The old Rakshas was grieved because her son had not re-
turned home ; but she saw she could detain Surj^a Bai no
longer, so she said, " Take the fire and go in peace j take
also some parched corn, and scatter it along the road as you
go, so as to make a pretty little pathway from our house to
yours," — and so saying, she gave Surya Bai several handfuls
of parched com. The girl took them, fearing no evil, and
as she went, she scattered the grains on the road. Then she
climbed back into the nest and shut the seven iron doors, and
lighted the fire, and cooked the food, and gave the dog and
the cat some dinner, and took some herself, and went to sleep.

No sooner had Sur}-a Bai left the Rakshas' hut, than the
young Rakshas returned, and his mother said to him,
" Alas, alas, my son, why did not you come sooner ! Such
a sweet little lamb has been here, and now we have lost
her." Then she told him all about Surya Bai. " Which
way did she go?" asked the young Rakshas, " only tell me
that, and I'll have her before morning."

His mother told him hov/ she had given Sur}'a Bai the
parched corn to scatter on the road ; and when he heard

Little Siirya BaL 91

that, he followed up the track, and ran, and ran, and ran, till
he came to the foot of the tree.

There, looking up, he saw the nest high in the branches
above him.

Quick as thought, up he climbed, and reached the great
outer door ; and he shook it, and shook it, but he could
not get in, for Sur^-a Bai had bolted it. Then he said,
" Let me in, my child, let me in ; I'm the great Eagle, and
I have come from very far, and brought you many beautiful
jewels; and here is a splendid diamond ring to fit your
little finger." But Sur)'a Bai did not hear him, she was
fist asleep.

He next tried to force open the door again, but it was too
strong for him. In his efforts, however, he had broken off
one of his finger-nails (nov/ the nail of a Rakshas is most , h-tyj^ y
poisonous), which he left sticking in the crack of the door ^ / ^ 0
when he went away.

Next morning Surya Bai opened all the doors in order to
look down on the world below ; but when she came to the
seventh door a sharp thing, which was sticking in it, ran
into her hand, and immediately she fell down dead.

At that same moment the two poor old Eagles returned
from their long twelvemonth's journey, bringing a beautiful
diamond ring, which they had fetched for their little fa-
vourite, from the Red Sea.

There she lay on the threshold of the nest, beautiful as
ever, but cold and dead.

The Eagles could not bear the sight ; so they placed the
ring on her finger, and then, with loud cries, flew off to re-
turn no more.

92 Old Dcccau Days.

But a little while after there chanced to come by a great
Rajah*, who was out on a hunting expedition. He came
■with hawks, and hounds, and attendants, and horses, and
pitched his camp under the tree in which the Eagle's nest
was built. Then looking up he saw, amongst the topmost
branches, what appeared like a queer little house ; and he
sent some of his attendants to see what it was. They soon
returned, and told the Rajah that up in the tree was a
curious thing like a cage, having seven iron doors, and that
on the threshold of the first door lay a fair maiden, richly
dressed ; that she was dead, and that beside her stood a
little dog and a little cat.

At this the Rajah commanded that they should be fetched
down, and when he saw Sur}-a Eai he felt very sad to think
that she was dead. And he took her hand to feel if it
were already stiff; but all her limbs were supple, nor had
she become cold, as the dead are cold ; and, looking again
at her hand, the Rajah saw that a sharp thing, like a long
thorn, had run into the tender palm, almost far enough to
pierce through to the back of her hand.

He pulled it out, and no sooner had he done so than
Surya Bai opened her eyes, and stood up, crj-ing, " Where
am I ? and who are you ? Is it a dream, or true ? "

The Rajah answered, " It is all true, beautiful lady. I
am the Rajah of a neighbouring land ; pray tell me who are
you ? "

She replied, " I am the Eagle's child." But he laughed,
" Nay," he said, " that cannot be, you are some great Prin-
cess." " No," she answered, " I am no royal lady, what I
* King.

Little Surya Bai. 93

say is tnie. I have lived all my life in this tree. I am
only the Eagle's child."

Then the Rajah said, " If you are not a Princess born,
I will make you one, say only you will be my Queen."

Surya Bai consented, and the Rajah took her to his
kingdom, and made her his Queen. But Surya Bai was not
his only wife, and the first Ranee,* his other wife, was both
envious and jealous of her.f

The Rajah gave Surya Bai many trustworthy attendants to
guard her and be with her — and one old woman loved Surya
Bai more than all the rest, and used to say to her — " Don't
be too intimate with the first Ranee, dear lady, for she
wishes you no good, and she has power to do you harm.
Some day she may poison or otherwise injure you ; " but
Surya Bai would answer her : " Nonsense, what is there to
be alarmed about ? Why cannot we both live happily
together like two sisters ? " Then the old woman would
rejoin, " Ah, dear lady, may you never live to rue your con-
fidence ! I pray my fears may prove folly." So Sur}^a Bai
went often to see the first Ranee, and the first Ranee also
came often to see her.

One day they were standing in the palace court-yard,
near a tank,| where the Rajah's people used to bathe, and
the first Ranee said to Surya Bai, "What pretty jewels you
have, sister ! let me try them on for a minute, and see how
I look in them."

The old woman was standing beside Surya Bai, and she
whispered to her, '• Do not lend her your jewels." " Hush,
you silly old woman," answered she. " What harm will it
* Queen. f See Notes at the end. % Resen'oir for water.

94 Old Dcccan Days.

do ? " and she gave the Ranee her jewels. Then the Ranee
said, " How pretty all your things are ! do you not think
they look well even on me ? Let us come down to the
tank, it is as clear as glass, and we can see ourselves re-
flected in it, and how these jewels will shine in the clear
water ! "

The old woman, hearing this, was much alarmed, and
begged Surya Bai not to venture near the tank, but she said,
" I bid you be silent, I will not distrust my sister," and she
went down to the tank. Then, when no one was near, and
they were both leaning over, looking at their reflections
in the water, the first Ranee pushed Surya Bai into the
tank, who, sinking under water, was drowned ; and from
the place where her body fell, there sprung up a bright
golden sunflower.

The Rajah shortly afterwards inquired where Sur}^a Bai
was, — but nowhere could she be found. Then, very angry,
he came to the first Ranee and said, " Tell me where the
child is ? You have made av/ay with her." But she answered,
" You do me wrong, I know nothing of her. Doubtless
that old v\-oman, whom you allowed to be always with her,
has done her some harm." So the Rajah ordered the poor
old woman to be thrown into prison.

He tried to forget Surya Bai and all her pretty ways, but
it was no good. Wherever he went, he saw her face.
Wbatever he heard, he still listened for her voice. Every
day he grew more miserable ; he Avould not eat nor drink ;
and as for the other Ranee, he could not bear to speak to
her. All his people said, " He Avill surely die."

When matters vrere in this state, the Rajah one day

Little Surya Bai. 95

wandered to the edge of the tank, and bending over the
parapet, looked into the water. Then he was surprised to
see, growing out of the tank close beside him, a stately
golden flower ; and as he watched it, the sunflower gently bent
its head, and leaned down towards him. The Rajah's heart
was softened, and he kissed its leaves and mumiured, " This
flower reminds me of my lost wife. I love it, it is fair and
gentle as she used to be." And every day he would go down
to the tank, and sit and watch the flower. When the Ranee
heard this, she ordered her servants to go and dig the sun-
flower up, and to take it far into the jungle and burn it.
Next time the Rajah went to the tank he found his flower
gone, and he was very grieved, but none dared say who had
done it.

Then, in the jungle, from the place where the ashes of
the sunflower had been thrown, there sprung up a young
mango tree — tall and straight, that grew so quickly, and
became such a beautiful tree, that it was the wonder of all
the country round. At last, on its topmost bough, came
one fair blossom ; and the blossom fell, and the little mango
grew rosier and rosier, and larger and larger, till so wonder-
ful was it, both for size and shape, that people flocked from
far and near only to look at it.

But none ventured to gather it, for it was to be kept for
the Rajah himself.

Now one day, the poor Llilkwoman, Surya Bai's mother,
was returning homev/ards after her day's work, with the
empty milk cans ; and being veiy tired with her long walk
to the bazaar, she lay down under the mango tree and fell
asleep. Then, right into her largest milk can, fell the wonder-

96 Old Dcccan Days.

ful mango ! A^'hcn the poor woman awoke and saw what
had happened, she was dreadfully frightened, and thought to
herself, " If any one sees me vvith this wonderful fmit, that
all the Rajah's great people have been watching for so many,
many Aveeks, they will never believe that I did not steal it,
and I shall be put in prison. Yet it is no good leaving it
here ; besides, it fell off of itself into my milk can. I will
therefore take it home as secretly as possible, and .share it
with my children."

So the IMilkwoman covered up the can in which the
mango was, and took it quickly to her home, where she
placed it in the corner of the room, and put over it a dozen
other milk cans, piled one above another. Then, as soon
as it was dark, she called her husband and eldest son (for
she had six or seven children), and said to them, " What
good fortune do you think has befallen me to-day ? "

" We cannot guess," they said. " Nothing less," she went
on, " than the wonderful wonderful mango falling into one of
my milk cans while I slept ! I have brought it home with me,
it is in that lowest can. Go, husband, call all the children to
have a slice ; and you, my son, take down that pile of cans,
and fetch me the mango." " Mother," he said, v.-hen he
got to the lowest can, " you vv-ere joking, I suppose, when
you told us there was a mango here."

" No, not at all," she answered, " there is a mango there.
I put it there myself an hour ago."

" Well, there's something quite different now," replied the
son. "Come and see."

The jNIilkwoman ran to the place, and there, in the lowest
can, she saw, not the mango, but a little tiny wee lady,

Little Surya Bai. 97

richly dressed in red and gold, and no bigger than a mango !
On her head shone a bright jewel like a little sun.

" This is very odd," said the mother. " I never heard of
such a thing in my life ! But since she has been sent to us,
I will take care of her, as if she were my own child."

Every day the litUe lady grew taller and taller, until she
was the size of an ordinary woman ; she was gentle and
loveable, but always very sad and quiet, and she said her
name was " Surya Bai."

The .children were all very curious to know her history,
but the Milkwoman and her husband would not let her be
teased to tell who she was, and said to the children, " Let
us wait By-and-by, when she knows us better, she will
most likely tell us her story of her own accord."

Now it came to pass that once, when Surya Bai was
taking water from the well for the old Milkwoman, the
Rajah rode by, and as he saw her walking along, he cried,
" That is my wife," and rode after her as fast as possible.
Surya Bai, hearing a great clatter of horses' hoofs, was
frightened, and ran home as fast as possible, and hid her-
self; and when the Rajah reached the place there was only
the old Milkwoman to be seen, standing at the door of her
hut.

Then the Rajah said to her, " Give her up, old woman,
you have no right to keep her, she is mine, she is mine ! "
But the old woman answered, " Are you mad ? I don't
know what you mean."

The Rajah replied, " Do not attempt to deceive me. I
saw my wife go in at your door; she must be in the house."

" Your wife ? " screamed the old woman — " your wife ?

H

98 Old Dcccan Days.

you mean my daughter, who lately returned from the well !
Do you think I am going to give my child up at your
command? You are Rajah in your palace, but I am
Rajah in my own house; and I won't give up my little
daughter for any bidding of yours. Be off v.ith you, or 111
pull out your beard." And so saying she seized a long stick
and attacked the Rajah, calling out loudly to her husband
and sons, who came running to her aid.

The Rajah, seeing matters were against him, and having
outridden his attendants, (and not being quite certain
moreover whether he had seen Surya Bai, or whether she
might not have been really the poor Milkwoman's daughter,)
rode off and returned to his palace.

However, he determined to sift the matter. As a first
step he Avent to see Surya Bai's old attendant, who was still
in prison. From her he learnt enough to make him be-
lieve she was not only entirely innocent of Surya Bai's death,
but gravely to suspect the first Ranee of having caused it.
He therefore ordered the old Avoman to be set at liberty —
still keeping a watchful eye on her — and bade her prove her
devotion to her long-lost mistress by going to the ]\Iilk-
woman's house, and bringing him as much information as
possible about the family, and more particularly about the
girl he had seen returning from the well.

So the attendant Avent to the Milkwoman's house, and
made friends Avith her, and bought some milk, and after-
AA'ards she stayed and talked to her.

After a fcAv days the jNIilkAvonian ceased to be suspicious
of her, and became quite cordial.

Surya Bai's attendant then told, hoAv she had been the late

Little Siirya Bai. 99

Ranee's waiting-woman, and how the Rajah had thrown her
into prison on her mistress's death ; in return for which intel-
hgence the old Milkwoman imparted to her how the wonder-
ful mango had tumbled into her can, as she slept under the
tree ; and how it had miraculously changed in the course of
an hour, into a beautiful little lady. " I wonder why she
should have chosen my poor house to live in, instead of any
one else's," said the old woman.

Then Surya Bai's attendant said, " Have you ever asked
her her history ? Perhaps she would not mind telling it to
you now."

So the Milkwoman called the girl, and as soon as the old
attendant sav/ her, she knew it was none other than Surya
Bai, and her heart jumped for joy ; but she remained silent,
wondering much, for she knew her mistress had been drowned
in the tank.

The old Milkwoman turned to Surya Bai and said, " My
child, you have lived long with us, and been a good daughter
to me ; but I have never asked you your history, because I
thought it must be a sad one ; but if you do not fear to tell
it to me now, I should like to hear it."

Surya Bai answered, " Mother, you speak true ; my story
is sad. I believe my real mother was a poor Milkwoman
like you, and that she took me with her one day when I
was quite a little baby, as she was going to sell milk in the
bazaar. But being tired with the long walk, she sat down
to rest, and placed me also on the ground, when suddenly
a great Eagle flew down and carried me away. But all the
father and mother I ever knew were the two great Eagles."

" Ah, my child ! my child ! " cried the Milkwoman, " I

11 z

lOO Old Dcccan Days.

■was that poor woman, the Eagles flew away with my eldest
girl when she was only a year old. Have I found you after
these many years ? "

And she ran and called all her children, and her husband,
to tell them the wonderful news.

Then was there great rejoicing among them all.

When they were a little calmer, her mother said to Surj^a
Bai, " Tell us, dear daughter, how your life has been spent
since first we lost you." And Surj'a Bai went on —

" The old Eagles took me away to their home, and there
I lived happily many years. They loved to bring me all the
beautiful things they could find, and at last one day they
both went to fetch me a diamond ring from the Red Sea ;
but while they Avere gone, the fire went out in the nest : so I
went to an old woman's hut, and got her to give me some
fire ; and next day (I don't know how it was), as I was
opening the outer door of the cage, a sharp thing, that was
sticking in it, ran into my hand, and I fell down senseless.

" I don't know how long I lay there, but when I came to
myself, I found the Eagles must have come back, and
thought me dead, and gone away, for the diamond ring was
on my little finger ; a great many people were watching over
me, and amongst them was a Rajah, who asked me to go
home Avith him and be his wife, and he brought me to this
place, and I was his Ranee.

" But his other wife, the first Ranee, hated me (for she
was jealous), and desired to kill me ; and one day she ac-
compUshed her purpose, by pushing me into the tank, for I
was young and foolish, and disregarded the warnings of my
faithful old attendant, who begged me not to go near the

Little Sicrya Bai. lOi

place. Ah ! if I had only listened to her words I might
have been happy still."

At these words the old attendant, who had been sitting in
the back ground, rushed forward and kissed Surya Bai's
feet, crying, " Ah, my lady ! my lady ! have I found you at
last ! " and, without staying to hear more, she ran back to
the Palace to tell the Rajah the glad news.

Then Surya Bai told her parents how she had not wholly
died in the tank, but became a sunflower; and how the
first Ranee, seeing how fond the Rajah was. of the plant,
had caused it to be thrown away ; and then how she had
risen from the ashes of the sunflower, in the form of a mango
tree ; and how when the tree blossomed all her spirit went
into the little mango flower, and she ended by saying, " And
when the flower became fruit, I know not by what irresistible
impulse I was induced to throw myself into your milk can.
Mother, it was my destiny, and as soon as you took me into
your house, I began to recover my human form."

" Why, then," asked her brothers and sisters, " why do
you not tell the Rajah that you are living, and that you are
the Ranee Surya Bai ? "

" Alas," she answered, " I could not do that. Who knows
but that he may be influenced by the first Ranee, and also
desire my death. Let me rather be poor like you, but safe
from danger."

Then her mother cried, " Oh, what a stupid woman I am.
The Rajah one day came seeking you here, but I and your
father and brothers drove him away, for we did not know
you were indeed the lost Ranee."

As she spoke these words a sound of horses' hoofs was

102 Old Dcccan Days.

heard in the distance, and the Rajah himself appeared,
having heard the good news of Surya Bai's being ahve, from
her old attendant.

It is impossible to tell the joy of the Rajah at finding his
long lost wife, but it was not greater than Surya Bai's at
being restored to her husband.

Then the Rajah turned to the old Milkwoman and said,
" Old woman, you did not tell me true, for it was indeed
my wife who was in your hut." — " Yes, Protector of the
Poor," answered the old INIilkwoman. ''but it was also my
daughter." Then they told him how Surya Bai was the
Milkwoman's child.

At hearing this the Rajah commxanded them all to return
with him to the Palace. He gave Sur}^a Bai's father a
village, and ennobled the family ; and he said to Surya Bai's
old attendant, " For the good service you have done you
shall be palace housekeeper," and he gave her great riches ;
adding, " I can never repay the debt I owe you, nor make
you sufficient recompense for having caused you to be
unjustly cast into prison." But she replied, "Sire, even in
your anger you were temperate ; if you had caused me to
be put to death, as some would have done, none of this good
might have come upon you; it is yourself you have to thank."

The wicked first Ranee was cast, for the rest of her life,
into the prison in which the old attendant had been thrown ;
but Surya Bai lived happily with her husband the rest of her
days ; and in memory of her adventures, he planted round
their Palace a hedge of sunflowers and a grove of mango
trees.

VII.

THE WANDERINGS OF VICRAM
MAHARAJAH.

There was once upon a time a Rajah"^ named Vicram
Maharajah,+ who had a Wuzeer,^ named Butti.§ Both the
Rajah and his minister were left orphans when very young,
and ever since their parents' death they had lived together :
they were educated together, and they loved each other
tenderly — like brothers.

Both were good and kind — no poor man coming to the
Rajah was ever known to have been sent away disappointed,
for it was his delight to give food and clothes to those in
need. But whilst the Wuzeer had much judgment and
discretion, as Avell as a brilliant fancy, the Rajah was too
apt to allow his imagination to run away with his reason.

Under their united rule, however, the kingdom prospered

* King.

J Prime Minister.

+ The great King Vicram.
§ Light.

I04 Old Dcccan Days.

greatly. The Rajah was tlie spur of every noble work, and
the Wuzeer the curb to every rash or impracticable project.

In a country some way from Rajah Vicram's there
lived a little Queen, called Anar Ranee (the Pomegranate
Queen). Her father and mother reigned over the Pome-
granate country, and for her they had made a beautiful
garden. In the middle of the garden was a lovely pome-
granate tree, bearing three large pomegranates. They
opened in the centre, and in each was a little bed. In one
of them Anar Ranee used to sleep, and in the pomegranates
on either side, slept two of her maids.

Every morning early the pomegranate tree would gently
bend its branches to the ground, and the fruit would open,
and Anar Ranee and her attendants creep out to play under
the shadow of the cool tree until the evening \ and each
evening the tree again bent down to enable them to get into
their tiny, snug bed-rooms.

Many princes wished to marry Anar Ranee, for she was
said to be the fairest lady upon earth— her hair was black as
a raven's wing, her eyes like the eyes of a gazelle, her teeth
two rows of exquisite jDearls, and her cheeks the colour of
the rosy pomegranate. Eut her father and mother had
caused her garden to be hedged round with seven hedges
made of bayonets, so that none could go in nor out ; and
they had published a decree that none should marry her but
he who could enter the garden and gather the three pome-
granates, in which she and her two maids slept. To do this,
kings, princes, and nobles innumerable, had striven, but
striven in vain.

Some never got past the first sharp hedge of bayonets ;

The Wanderings of Vicram ]\Iaharajah. 105

others, more fortunate, surmounted the second, the third,
the fourth, the fifth, or even the sixth ; but there perished
miserably, being unable to climb the seventh. None had
ever succeeded in entering the garden.

Before Vicram Maharajah's father and mother died, they
had built, some way from their palace, a very beautiful
temple. It was of marble, and in the centre stood an idol
made of pure gold. But in course of time the jungle had
grown up round it, and thick straggling plants of prickly
pear had covered it, so that it was difficult even to find out
whereabouts it was.

Then, one day, the Wuzeer Butti said to Vicram INIaharajah,
" The temple your father and mother built at so much pains
and cost, is almost lost in the jungle, and will probably ere
long be in ruins. It would be a pious work to find it out
and restore it." Vicram Maharajah agreed, and immediately
sent for many workmen, and caused the jungle to be cut
down, and the temple restored. All were much astonished
to find what a beautiful place it was ! The floor was white
marble, the walls exquisitely carved in bas-reliefs and
gorgeously coloured, while all over the ceiling was painted
Vicram Maharajah's father's name, and in the centre was a
golden image of Gunputti* to whom it was dedicated.

The Rajah Vicram was so pleased with the beauty of the
place, that on that account, as well as because of its sanctity,
he and Butti used to go and sleep there every night.

One night Vicram had a wonderful dream. He dreamed
his father appeared to him and said — "Arise, Vicram, go
to the tower for lights! which is in front of this temple.
* The Hindoo god of Wisdom. \ See Notes at the end.

io6 Old Dcccan Days.

(For there was in front of the temple a beautiful tower or
pyramid for lights, and all the way up it were projections on
which to place candles on days dedicated to the idol ; so
that when the whole was lighted, it looked like a gigantic
candlestick, and to guard it there were around it seven
hedges made of bayonets.)

" Arise, Vicram, therefore," said the vision, " go to the
tower for lights ; below it is a vast amount of treasure, but
you can only get it in one way without incurring the
anger of Gunputti. You must first do in his honour an act
of ver}' great devotion, which if he graciously approve, and
consent to preser\-e your life therein, you may with safety
remove the treasure."

"And what is this act of devotion?" asked A'icram iMaha-
rajah.

'• It is this." (He thought his father answered.) " You must
fasten a rope to the top of the tower, and to the other end
of the rope attach a basket, into wliich you must get head
do\vnwards, then twist the rope by which the basket is hung
three times, and as it is untwisting, cut it, when you will fall
head downwards to the earth.

" If you fall on either of the hedges of bayonets, you
•will be instantly killed ; but Gunputti is merciful — do not
fear that he will allow you to be slain. If you escape un-
hurt, you will know that he has accepted your pious act,
and may without danger take the treasure."*

The vision faded, Vicram saw no more, and shortly after-
wards he awoke.

Then, turning to the Wuzeer, he said, " Butti, I had a
* See Notes at the end.

The Wanderings of Vicrani Maharajah. loy

strange dream. I dreamed my father counselled me to do
an act of great devotion, nothing less than fastening a
basket by a rope to the top of the tower for lights, and
getting into it head downwards, then cutting the rope and
allowing myself to fall ; by which, having propitiated the
divinity, he promised me a vast treasure, to be found by
digging under the tower ! What do you think I had
better do?"

" My advice," answered the Wuzeer, " is, if you care to
seek the treasure, to do entirely as your father commanded,
trusting in the mercy of Gunputti."

So the Rajah caused a basket to be fastened by a rope to
the top of the tower, and got into it head downwards ; then
he called out to Butti, "How can I cut the rope?"
" Nothing is easier," answered he, " take this sword in your
hand, I will twist the rope three times, and as it untwists
for the first time let the sword fall upon it." Vicram Maha-
rajah took the sword, and Butti twisted the rope, and as it
first began to untwist, the Rajah cut it, and the basket
immediately fell. It would have certainly gone down
among the bayonets, and he been instantly killed, had not
Gunputti, seeing the danger of his devotee, rushed out of
the temple at that moment, in the form of an old woman,
who, catching the basket in her arms before it touched the
bayonets, brought it gently and safely to the ground ;
having done which she instantly returned into the temple.
None of the spectators knew she was Gunputti himself in
disguise, they only thought " what a clever old woman."

Vicram Maharajah then caused excavations to be made
below the tower, under which he found an immense amount

io8 Old Dcccan Days.

of treasure. There Avere mountains of gold, there were
diamonds, and rubies, and sapphires, and emeralds, and
turquoise, and pearls ; but he took none of them, causing
all to be sold and the money given to the poor, so little did
he care for the riches for which some men sell their bodies
and souls.

Another day, the Rajah, when in the temple, dreamed
again. Again his father appeared to him, and this time he
said, " Vicram, come daily to this temple and Gunputti will
teach you wisdom, and you shall get understanding. You
may get learning in the world, but wisdom is the fruit of
much learning and much experience, and much love of God
and man; wherefore, come acquire wisdom, for learning
perishes, but wisdom never dies." When the Rajah awoke,
he told his dream to the Wuzeer, and Butti recommended
him to obey his father's counsel, which he accordingly did.

Daily he resorted to the temple and was instructed by Gun-
putti ; and when he had learnt much, one day Gunputti said
to him, " I have given you as much wisdom as is in keeping
with man's finite comprehension ; now, as a parting gift, ask
of me what you will and it shall be yours — or riches, or
power, or beauty, or long life, or health, or happiness —
choose what you will have ? " The Rajah was very much
puzzled, and he begged leave to be allowed a day to think
over the matter, and decide what he would choose, to which
Gunputti assented.

Now it happened that near the palace there lived the son
of a Carpenter, who was very cunning, and when he heard
that the Rajah went to the temple to learn wisdom, he also
determined to go and see if he could not learn it also ; and

TJic Wanderings of Vicrani Maharajah. 109

each day when Gunputti gave Vicram Maharajah instruction,
the Carpenter's son would hide close behind the temple, and
overhear all their conversation : so that he also became ver}--
wise. No sooner, therefore, did he hear Gunputti's offer to
Vicram, than he determined to return again v.^hen the Rajah
did, and find out in what way he was to procure the promised
gift, whatever it were.

The Rajah consulted Butti as to what he should ask for,
saying, " I have riches more than enough, I have also sufh-
cient power, and for the rest I had sooner take my chance
with other men, which makes me much at a loss to know
what to choose."

The Wuzeer answered, " Is there any supernatural power
you at all desire to possess? If so, ask for that." "Yes,"
replied the Rajah, " it has always been a great desire of
mine, to have power to leave my own body v/hen I will, and
translate my soul, and sense, into some other body; either of
man or animal. I would rather be able to do that, than
anything else." — " Then," said the Wuzeer, "ask Gunputti to
give you the power."

Next morning the Rajah, having bathed and prayed,
went in great state to the temple to have his final interview
with the Idol. And the Carpenter's son went too, in order
to overhear it.

Then Gunputti said to the Rajah, " Vicram, what gift do
you choose ?" — " Oh, divine power," answered the Rajah,
" you have already given me a sufficiency of wealth and
power, in making me Rajah ; neither care I for more of
beauty than I now possess ; and of long life, health, and
happiness, I had rather take my share with other men. But

no Old Dixcan Days.

there is a power which I Avould rather own than all that you
have offered."

" Name it, Oh good son of a good father," said Gunputti.

"Most Wise," rephed Vicram, "give me the power to leave
my own body when I will, and translate my soul, and sense,
and thinking powers, into any other body that I may choose,
either of man, or bird, or beast — whether for a day, or a year,
or for twelve years, or as long as I like ; grant also, that
however long the term of my absence, my body may not
decay, but that when I please to return to it again, I may
find it still as when I left it."

" Vicram," answered Gunputti, "' your prayer is heard," and
he instructed Vicram Maharajah by what means he should
translate his soul into another body, and also gave him
something, which, being placed within his own body when
he left it, would preserve it from decay until his return.*

The Carpenter's son, who had been all this time listening
outside the temple, heard and learnt the spell whereby Gun-
putti gave Vicram Maharajah power to enter into any other
body ; but he could not see nor find out Avhat was given to
the Rajah to place within his OAvn body when he left it, to
preserve it ; so that he was only master of half the secret.

Vicram Maharajah returned home, and told the Wuzeer
that he was possessed of the much-desired secret. " Then,"
said Butti, " the best use you can put it to, is to fly to the
Pomegranate country, and bring Anar Ranee here."

" How can that be done ?" asked the Rajah. " Thus,"
replied Butti ; " transport yourself into the body of a parrot,
in which shape you will be able to fly over the seven hedges
* Sec Notes at the end.

ii

The Wanderings of Vicram MaJiarajaJi. 1 1 1 ' W-t /"■

of bayonets that surround her garden. Go to the tree in
the centre of it, bite off the stalks of the pomegranates and
bring them home in your beak."

" Very well," said the Rajah, and he picked up a parrot
which lay dead on the ground, and placing within his own
body the beauty-preserving charm, transported his soul into
the parrot, and flew off.

On, on, on he went, over the hills and far away, until he
came to the garden. Then he flew over the seven hedges of
bayonets, and with his beak broke off the three pome-
granates (in which were Anar Ranee and her two ladies) and
holding them by the stalks brought them safely home. He
then immediately left the parrot's body and re-entered his
own body.

When Butti saw how well he had accomplished the feat,
he said, " Thank heaven there's some good done already."
All who saw Anar Ranee were astonished at her beauty, for
she was fair as a lotus flower, and the colour on her cheeks
was like the deep rich colour of a pomegranate, and all
thought the Rajah very wise to have chosen such a wife.

They had a magnificent wedding, and were for a short
time as happy as the day is long.

But within a little while Vicram IMaharajah said to Butti,
"I have again a great desire to see the world." — "What!"
said Butti, " so soon again to leave your home ! So soon to
care to go away from your young wife ! "

" I love her and my people dearly," answered the Rajah ;
" but I cannot but feel that I have this supernatural power
of taking any form I please, and longing to use it." —
" Where and how will you go?" asked the Wuzeer. " Let

'/

112 Old Dcccan Days.

it be the day after to-morrow," answered Vicram Maharajah.
" I shall again take the form of a parrot, and see as much
of the world as possible."

So it was settled that the Rajah should go. He left his
kingdom in the AVuzeer's sole charge, and also his wife,
saying to her, " I don't know for how long I may be away ;
perhaps a da)^, perhaps a year, perhaps more. But if, while
I am gone, you should be in any difficulty, apply to the
Wuzeer. He has ever been like an elder brother or a father
to me ; do you therefore also regard him as a father. I
have charged him to take care of you as he would of his
own child."

Having said these words, the Rajah caused a beautiful
parrot to be shot (it was a very handsome bird, with a tuft
of bright feathers on its head and a ring about its neck). He
then cut a small incision in his arm and rubbed into it some
of the magic preservative given him by Gunputti to keep his
body from decaying, and transporting his soul into the
parrot's body he flew away.

No sooner did the Carpenter's son hear that the Rajah
was as dead, than, knowing the power of which Vicram
Maharajah and he were alike possessed, he felt certain that the
former had made use of it, and determined himself likewise
to turn it to account. Therefore, directly the Rajah entered
the parrot's body, the Carpenter's son entered the Rajah's
body, and the world at large imagined that the Rajah had
only swooned and recovered. But the Wuzeer was wiser
than they, and immediately thought to himself, " Some one
beside A^'icram Maharajah must have become acquainted
with this spell, and be now making use of it, thinking it would

TJic Wanderings of Vicravi JMaharajali. 1 1 3

be very amusing to play the part of Rajah for a while ; but
I'll soon discover if this be the case or no."

So he called Anar Ranee and said to her, "You are as
well assured as I am, that your husband left us but now, in
the form of a parrot ; but scarcely had he gone, before his
deserted body arose, and he now appears walking about,
and talking, and as much alive as ever ; nevertheless, my
opinion is, that the spirit animating the body is not the
spirit of the Rajah, but that some one else is possessed of
the power given to him by Gunputti, and has taken advan-
tage of it, to personate him. But this it would be better to
put to the proof. Do, therefore, as I tell you, that you may
be assured of the truth of my words. Make to-day for your
husband's dinner some very coarse and common currie, and
give it to him. If he complains that it is not as good as
usual, I am making a mistake ; but if, on the contrary, he
says nothing about it, you will know that my words are true,
and that he is not Vicram Maharajah."

Anar Ranee did as the Wuzeer advised, and afterwards
came to him and said, " Father " (for so she always called
him) " I have been much astonished at the result of the
trial. I made the currie very carelessly, and it was as coarse and
common as possible ; but the Rajah did not even complain.
I feel convinced it is as you say ; but what can we do ? "

"We will not," answered the Wuzeer, "cast him into
prison, since he inhabits your husband's body; but neither
you, nor any of the Rajah's relations, must have any
friendship with, or so much as speak to him ; and if he
speak to any of you, let Avhoever it be, immediately begin to
quarrel with him, whereby he will find the life of a raj all

1

1 14 Old Dcccan Days.

not so agreeable as he anticipated, and may be induced the
sooner to return to his proper form.

Anar Ranee instructed all her husband's relations and
friends as Butti had advised, and the Carpenter's son began
to think the life of a rajah not at all as pleasant as he had
fancied, and would, if he could, have gladly returned to his
own body again ; but, having no power to preserve it, his
spirit had no sooner left it than it began to decay, and at
the end of three days it was quite destroyed ; so that the un-
happy man had no alternative but to remain where he was.

Meantime the real Vicram Maharajah had flown, in the
form of a parrot, very far, far away, until he reached a large
banyan tree, where there were a thousand other pretty pollies,
whom he joined, making their number a thousand and one.
Every day the parrots flew away to get food^ and every night
they returned to roost in the great banyan tree.

Now it chanced that a hunter had often gone through
that part of the jungle, and noticed the banyan tree and the
parrots, and he said to himself, " If I could only catch the
thousand and one parrots that nightly roost in that tree, I
should not be so often hungry as I am now, for they would
make plenty of very nice currie." But he could not do it,
though he often tried ; for the trunks of the tree were tall and
straight, and very slippery, so that he no sooner climbed up
a little way, than he slid down again : however, he did not
cease to look, and long.

One day, a heavy shower of rain drove all the parrots
back earlier than usual to their tree, and when they got there
they found a thousand crows who had come on their home-
ward flight, to shelter themselves there till the storm was over.

The Wanderings of Vicraui Maharajah. 1 1 5

Then Vicram INIaharajah Parrot, said to the other parrots,
" Do you not see these crows have all sorts of seeds and
fruits in their beaks, which they are carrying home to their
little ones ? Let us quickly drive them away, lest some of
these fall down under our tree, which, being sown there, will
spring up strong plants and twine round the trunks, and
enable our enemy the hunter to climb up with ease and kill
us all."

But the other parrots answered, " That is a very far-
fetched idea ! Do not let us hunt the poor birds away from
shelter in this pouring rain, they will get so wet." So the
crows were not molested. It turned out, however, just as
Vicram Maharajah had foretold ; for some of the fruits and
seeds they were taking home to their young ones, fell under
the tree, and the seeds took root and sprang up, strong
creeping plants, which twined all round the straight trunks of
the banyan tree, and made it very easy to climb.

Next time the hunter came by, he noticed this, and
saying, "Ah, my fine friends, I've got you at last," he, by
the help of the creepers, climbed the tree, and set one
thousand and one snares of fine thread among the branches ;
having done which he went away.

That night, when the parrots flew down on the branches
as usual, they found themselves all caught fast prisoners by
the feet.

" Crick ! crick ! crick !" cried they, " crick ! crick ! crick !
Oh dear ! oh dear ! what shall we do ? what can we do ?
Oh, Vicram Maharajah, you were right and we were wrong.
Oh dear ! oh dear ! crick ! crick ! crick !"

Then Vicram said, " Did I not tell you how it would be %

I 2

ii6 Old Dcccan Days.

But do as I bid you, and we may yet be saved. So soon as
the hunter comes to take us away, let every one hang his
head down on one side, as if he were dead ; then, thinking
us dead, he will not trouble himself to wring our necks, or
stick the heads of those he wishes to keep alive through his
belt, as he otherwise would ; but will merely release us, and
throw us on the ground. Let each one when there, remain
perfectly still, till the whole thousand and one are set free,
and the hunter begins to descend the tree ; then we will all
fly up over his head and far out of sight."

The parrots agreed to do as Vicram Maharajah Parrot
proposed, and when the hunter came next morning to take
them away, every one had his eyes shut, and his head hanging
down on one side, as if he were dead. Then the hunter
said, " All dead, indeed ! Then I shall have plenty of nice
currie." And so saying, he cut the noose that held the first,
and threw him down. Tiie i)arrot fell like a stone to the
ground, so did the second, the third, the fourth, the fifth, the
sixth, the seventh, the eighth, the ninth, the tenth, and so
on — up to the thousandth parrot. Now the thousandth and
first chanced to be none other than "V^icram ; all were re-
leased but he. But, just as the hunter was going to cut the
noose round his feet, he let his knife fall, and had to go
down and pick it up again. "Wlien the thousand parrots
who were on the ground, heard him coming down, they
thought, " The thousand and one are all released, and here
comes the hunter ; it is time for us to be off." And with
one accord they flew up into the air and far out of sight,
leaving poor A'icram Maharajah still a prisoner.

The hunter, seeing what had happened, vras very angry,

TJic Wanderings of Vicrani AlaharajaJi. 1 1 7

and seizing Vicram, said to him, " You wretched bird, it's
you that have worked aU this mischief. I know it must be,
for you are a stranger here, and different to the other
jDarrots. I'll strangle you, at all events — that I will." But
to his surprise, the parrot answered him, " Do not kill me.
What good will that do you ? Rather sell me in the next
town. I am very handsome. You will get a thousand gold
mohurs"' for me."

"A thousand gold mohurs !" answered the hunter, much
astonished. " You silly bird, who'd be so foolish as to
give a thousand gold mohurs for a parrot?" " Never mind,"
said Vicram, '' only take me and try."

So the hunter took him into the town, crying " Who'll
buy ! who'll buy ! Come buy this pretty polly that can
talk so nicely. See how handsome he is — see what a great
red ring he has round his neck. Who'll buy — who'll buy ! "

Then several people asked how much he would take for
the parrot ; but when he said a thousand gold mohurs, they
all laughed and went away, saying *' None but a fool would
give so much for a bird."

At last the hunter got angry, and he said to Vicram, " I
told you how it would be. I shall never be able to sell
you." But he answered, " Oh yes, you will. See here comes
a merchant down this way ; I dare say he will buy me." So
the hunter went to the merchant and said to him, " Pray,
sir, buy my pretty parrot." " How much do you want for
him?" asked the merchant, "two rupees ?"| "No, sir,"
answered the hunter, " I cannot part with him for less than
a thousand gold mohurs." " A thousand gold mohurs !"
* ^i,5cxi. 'h Four shillings.

Ii8 Old Dcccan Days.

cried the merchant, " a thousand gold mohurs ! I never
heard of such a thing in my hfe ! A thousand gold mohurs
for one little wee polly ! Why, with that sum you might buy
a house, or gardens, or horses, or ten thousand yards of the
best cloth. Who's going to give you such a sum for a
pan-ot ? Xot I, indeed. I'll give you two rupees and no
more." But Vicram called out, " Merchant, merchant, do
not fear to buy me. I am Vicram Maharajah Parrot Pay
what the hunter asks, and I will repay it you — buy me only,
and I will keep your shop."

" Polly," answered the merchant, " what nonsense you
talk." But he took a fancy to the bird, and paid the hunter
a thousand gold mohurs, and taking Vicram Maharajah
home, hung him up in his shop.

Then the Parrot took on him the duties of shopman, and
talked so much, and so wisely, that every one in the tOAvn
soon heard of the merchant's wonderful bird. Nobody
cared to go to any other shop — all came to his shop, only to
hear the Parrot talk ; and he sold them what they wanted,
and they did not care how much he charged for what he
sold, but gave him whatever he asked ; insomuch, that in
one week, the merchant had made a thousand gold mohurs
over and above his usual weekly profits ; and there Vicram
Maharajah Parrot lived for a long time, made much of by
everybody, and very happy.

It happened in the town where the merchant lived there
was a very accomplished Nautch girl,* Named Champa
Ranee, t She danced so beautifully, that the people of the

* Dancing girl. t The Champa Queen. "The Champa"

(Michelia Champaca) is a beautiful, sweet-scented yellow flower.

The Wanderings of Vicrani MaharajaJi. 119

town used always to send for her to dance on the occasion
of any great festival.

There also lived in the town a poor wood-cutter, who
earned his living by going out far into the jangle to cut
wood, and bringing it in every day, into the bazaar to sell.

One day he went out, as usual, into the jungle to cut
wood, and, being tired, he fell asleep under a tree and
began to dream ; and he dreamed that he was a very rich
man, and that he married the beautiful Nautch girl, and that
he took her home to his house, and gave his wife, as a
wedding present, a thousand gold mohurs I

When he went into the bazaar that evening, as usual, to
sell wood, he began telling his dream to his friends, saying,
" While I was in the jungle I had such an absurd dream ; I
dreamed that I was a rich man, and that I married the
Champa Ranee, and gave her as a wedding present a thou-
sand gold mohurs ! " " What a funny dream ! " they cried,
and thought no more about it.

But it happened that the house under which he was
standing, whilst talking to his friends, was Champa Ranee's
house, and Champa Ranee herself was near the window,
and heard what he said, and thought to herself — " For all
that man looks so poor, he has then a thousand gold
mohurs, or he would not have dreamed of giving them to
his wife ; if that is all, I'll go to law about it, and see if T
can't get the money."

So she sent out her servants and ordered them to catch
the poor wood-cutter; and when they caught him, she
began crying out, " Oh husband ! husband ! here have I
been waiting ever so long, wondering what has become of

I20 Old Dcccan Days.

you ; ^vhere have you been all this time ? " He answered,
" I'm sure I don't know what you mean. You're a great
lady and I'm a poor wood-cutter ; you must mistake me for
somebody else."

But she answered, " Oh no ! don't you remember we were
married on such and such a day ! Have you forgotten
what a grand wedding it was ? and you took me home to
your palace, and [promised to give me as a wedding present
a thousand gold mohurs ! but you quite forgot to give me
the money, and you went away, and I returned to my
father's house, till I should learn tidings of you ; how can
you be so cruel ? "

The poor wood-cutter thought he must be dreaming ; but
all Champa Ranee's friends and relations declared, that what
she said was true. Then after much quarrelling, they said
they would go to law about it ; but the judge could not
settle the matter, and referred it to the Rajah himself The
Rajah was no less puzzled than the judge. The wood-cutter
protested that he was only a poor wood-cutter ; but Champa
Ranee and her friends asserted that he was, on the contrary,
a rich man, her husband, and had had much money, which he
must have squandered. She offered however to give up all
claim to that, if he Avould only give her a thousand gold
mohurs which he had promised; and so suggested a com-
promise. The wood-cutter replied that he would gladly
give the gold mohurs, if he had them ; but that (as he
brought witnesses to prove) he was really and truly what he
professed to be, only a poor wood-cutter, Avho earned two
annas* a day cutting wood, and had neither palace, nor

* Three pence.

Tlic Wanderings of Vicnvn MaJiarajaJi. 12 1

riches, nor wife, in the world ! The whole city was inte-
rested in this curious case, and all wondered how it would
end ; some being sure one side was right, and some equally-
certain of the other.

The Rajah could make nothing of the matter, and at last
he said, " I hear there is a merchant in this town who has
a very wise parrot — wiser than most men are — let him be
sent for, to decide this business, for it is beyond me ; we
will abide by his decision."

So Vicram Maharajah Parrot was sent for, and placed in
the Court of Justice, to hear and judge the case.

First he said to the wood-cutter, " Tell me your version of
the story." And the wood-cutter answered, " Polly, Sahib,
what I tell is true. I am a poor man. I live in the jungle, and
earn my living, by cutting wood, and selling it in the bazaar.
I never get more than two annas a day. One day I fell
asleep and dreamed a silly dream ; how I had become rich
and married the Champa Ranee, and given her as a
wedding present a thousand gold mohurs ; but it is no
more true that I owed her a thousand gold mohurs, or have
them to pay, than that I married her."

" That is enough," said Vicram INIaharajah. " Now
Dancing girl, tell us your story." And Champa Ranee gave
her version of the matter. Then the Parrot said to her —
" Tell me now where was the house of this husband of
yours, to which he took you ? " " Oh ! " she answered ;
" very far away — I don't know how far — in the jungles."
" How long ago was it ? " asked he. " At such and such a
time," she replied. Then he called credible and trust-
worthy witnesses, who proved that Champa Ranee had

122 Old Dcccan Days.

never left the city at the time she mentioned. After
hearing whom, the parrot said to her, " Is it possible that
you can have the folly to think anyone would believe, that
you would leave your rich and costly home, to go a long
journey into the jungle ? It is now satisfactorily proved
that you did not do it ; you had better give up all claim to
the thousand gold mohurs."

But this the Nautch girl would not do. The Parrot then
called for a money-lender, and begged of him the loan of
a thousand gold mohurs, which he placed in a great bottle,
putting the stopper in, and sealing it securely down ; he
then gave it to the Nautch girl, and said, " Get this money
if you can, without breaking the seal, or breaking the
bottle." She answered, " It cannot be done." " No
more," replied A^icram Maharajah, " can what you desire be
done. You cannot force a poor man who has no money in
the world, to pay you a thousand gold mohurs."

" Let the prisoner go ' free ! Begone Champa Ranee.
Dancing girl ! you are a liar and a thief — go rob the rich if
you will, but meddle no more with the poor."

All applauded Vicram Maharajah Parrot's decision, and
said, " Was ever such a wonderful bird ! " But Champa
Ranee was extremely angry, and said to him, " Very well,
nasty polly — nasty stupid polly ! be assured before long I
will get you in my power, and when I do, I will bite off
your head ! "

" Try your worst, madam," answered Vicram ; " but in
return, I tell you this ; I will li\e to make you a beggar.
Your house shall be, by your own order, laid even with the
ground, and you for grief and rage shall kill yourself"

The Wanderings of Vicrant JMaharajaJi. 123

" Agreed," said Champa Ranee, " we will soon see
whose words come true, mine or yours," and so saying, she
returned home.

The merchant took Vicram Maharajah back to his shop,
and a week passed without adventure ; a fortnight passed,
but still nothing particular happened. At the end of this
time, the merchant's eldest son was married, and in honour
of the occasion, the merchant ordered that a clever dancing
girl should be sent for, to dance before the guests. Champa
Ranee came, and danced so beautifully that every one was
delighted ; and the merchant was much pleased, and said to
her, " You have done your work very well, and in payment,
you may choose what you like out of my shop, or house,
and it shall be yours — whether jewels, or rich cloths, or
whatever it is."

She replied, " I desire nothing of the kind — of jewels, and
rich stuffs, I have more than enough, but you shall give me
your pretty little parrot ; I like it much, and that is the
only payment I will take."

The merchant felt very much vexed, for he had never
thought the Nautch girl would ask for the parrot which he
was so fond of, and which had been so profitable to him ;
he felt he would rather have parted with anything he
possessed than that ; nevertheless, having promised, he was
bound to keep his word, so, with many tears, he went to
fetch his favourite. But Polly cried, " Don't be vexed,
master ; give me to the girl ; I can take good care of
myself."

So Champa Ranee took Vicram Maharajah Parrot home
with her ; and no sooner did she get there, than she sent for

124 Old Dec can Days.

one of her maids, and said, " Quick, ta'Re this parrot and
boil him for my supper, but first cut off his head and bring
it to me on a plate, grilled ; for I will eat it before tasting
any other dish."

" What nonsensical idea is this of our mistress," said the
maid to another, as she took the parrot into the kitchen ;
" to think of eating a grilled parrot's head ! " " Never
mind," said the other, " you'd better prepare it as she bids
you, or she'll be very cross." Then the maid who had
received the order, began plucking the long feathers out of
Vicram Maharajah's wings, he all the time hanging down
his head, so that she thought he was dead. Then, going to
fetch some water in which to boil him, she laid him down
close to the place where they washed the dishes. Now, the
kitchen was on the ground floor, and there was a hole right
through the wall, into which the water, used in washing the
dishes, ran, and through which all the scraps, bones,
peelings, and parings, were washed away after the daily
cooking ; and in this hole Vicram JNIaharajah hid himself,
quick as thought.

" Oh dear I oh dear ! " cried the maid, when she returned ;
" What can I do ! what will my mistress say ! I only turned
my back for one moment, and the parrot's gone." " Very
likely," answered the other maid, " some cat has taken it
away. It could not have been alive, and flown or run
away, or I should have seen it go ; but never fear, a chicken
will do instead."

Then they took a chicken and boiled it, and grilled the
head and took it to their mistress ; and she eat it, little bit
by little bit, saying as she did so — •

The Wanderings of Vie ram Maharajah. 125

"■ Ah, pretty polly ! so here's the end of you ! This is
the brain that thought so cunningly, and devised my over-
throw ! this is the tongue that spoke against me ! this is the
throat through which came the threatening words ! Aha !
who is right now, I wonder ! "

Vicram, in the hole close by, heard her, and felt very
much alarmed ; for he thought, " If she should catch me
after all ! " He could not fly away, for all his wing feathers
had been pulled out ; so there he had to stay some time,
living on the scraps that were washed into the hole in the
washing of the plates, and perpetually exposed to danger of
being drowned in the streams of water that were poured
through it. At last, however, his new feathers were
sufficiently grown to bear him, and he flew away to a little
temple in the jungle some way off, where he perched behind
the idol.

It happened that Champa Ranee used to go to that
temple, and he had not been there long before she came
there to worship her Idol.

She fell on her knees before the image, and began to
pray. Her prayer was that the god would transport her
body and soul to Heaven (for she had a horror of dying),
and she cried, " Only grant my prayer — only let this
be so, and I will do anything you wish — anything — any-
thing."

Vicram Maharajah was hidden behind the image, and
heard her, and said —

Champa Ranee Nautch girl, your prayer is heard ! " (She
thought the Idol himself was speaking to her, and listened
attentively.) " This is what you must do ; sell all you

126 Old Dcccan Days.

possess, and give the money to the poor ; you must also
give money to all your servants, and dismiss them. Level
also your house to the ground, that you may be wholly
separated from earth. Then you will be fit for Heaven,
come, having done all I command you, on this day week to
this place, and you shall be transported thither body and
soul."

Champa Ranee believed what she heard, and forgetful
of Vicram Maharajah Parrot's threat, hastened to do as she
was bidden. She sold her possessions, and gave all the
money to the poor ; razed her house to the ground, and
dismissed her servants, which being accomplished, on the
day appointed she went to the temple, and sat on the edge
of a well outside it, explaining to the assembled people how
the Idol himself had spoken to her, and how they would
shortly see her caught up to Heaven and thus her departure
from the world, would be even more celebrated than her
doings whilst in it. All the people listened eagerly to her
words, for they believed her inspired, and to see her
ascension the ■\\'holc city had come out, with hundreds and
hundreds of strangers and travellers, princes, merchants,
and nobles, from far and near, all full of expectation and
curiosity.

Then, as they waited, a fluttering of little wings was
heard, and a parrot flew over Champa Ranee's head, calling
out, " Nautch girl ! Nautch girl ! what have you done ? "
Champa Ranee recognised the voice as Vicram's ; he -went
on — " Will you go body and soul to Heaven ? have you
forgotten Polly's words ? "

Champa Ranee rushed into the temple, and, falling on

The Wanderings of Vicrani Ulahany'ah. 127

her knees before the Idol, cried out, " Gracious Power, I
have done all as you commanded ; let your words come
true ; save me ; take me to Heaven."

But the Parrot above her cried, " Good-bye, Champa
Ranee, good bye ; you eat a chicken's head, not mine.
Where is your house now? where your servants and all
your possessions ? Have my words come true, think you,
or yours ? "

Then the woman saw all, and in her rage and despair,
cursing her own folly, she fell violently down on the floor of
the temple, and dashing her head against the stone, killed
herself

It was now two years since the Rajah Vicram left his
kingdom ; and about six months before, Butti, in despair of
his ever returning, had set out to seek for him. Up and
down through many countries had he gone, searching for
his master ; but without success. As good fortune would
have it, however, he chanced to be one of those strangers
who had come to witness the Nautch girl's translation, and
no sooner did he see the Parrot which spoke to her, than in
him he recognised Vicram. The Rajah also saw him, and
flew on to his shoulder, upon which Butti caught him, put
him in a cage, and took him home.

Now was a puzzling problem to be solved. The Rajah's
soul was in the parrot's body, and the Carpenter's son's soul
in the Rajah's body. How was the latter to be expelled to
make way for the former ? He could not return to his own
body, for that had perished long before. The Wuzeer knew
not how to manage the matter, and determined therefore to
await the course of events.

128 Old Dcccan Days.

It happened that the pretended Rajah and Butti each
had a fighting ram, and one day the Rajah said to the
Wuzeer, " Let us set our rams to fight to-day, and try the
strength of mine against yours." " Agreed," answered the
Wuzeer ; and they set them to fight But there was much
difference in the two rams ; for when Butti's ram was but a
lamb, and his horns were growing, Butti had tied him to
a lime tree, and his horns had got very strong indeed by
constantly rubbing against its tender stem, and butting
against it ; but the Carpenter's son had tied his ram, when
a lamb, to a young teak tree — the trunk of which was so
stout and strong, tliat the little creature, butting against it,
could make no impression on it, but only damaged and
loosened his own horns.

The pretended Rajah soon saw, to his vexation, that, his
favourite's horns being less strong than its opponent's, he
was getting tired, and, beginning to lose courage, would
certainly be worsted in the fight ; so, quick as thought, he
left his own body, and transported his soul into the ram's
body, in order to give it an increase of courage and
resolution, and enable it to win.

No sooner did Vicram Maharajah, who was lianging up
in a cage, see what had taken place, than he left the
parrot's body and re-entered his own body. Then Butti's
ram pushed the other down on its knees, and the Wuzeer
ran and fetched a sword, and cut off its head ; thus putting
an end, with the life of the ram, to the life of the Car-
penter's son.

Great was the joy of Anar Ranee, and all the household,
at recovering the Rajah after his long absence; and Anar

TJic Wanda-higs of Vicnwi Maharajah. 129

Ranee prayed him to fly away no more as a pan-ot, which
he promised her he w^ould not do.

But the taste for wandering, and love of an unsettled life,
did not leave him on his resuming his proper form ; and
one of the things in which he most delighted was to roam
about the jungles, near the Palace, by himself, without
attendant or guide. One very sultry day, when he was thus
out by himself, he wandered over a rocky part of the country,
which was. flat and arid, without a tree upon it to offer
shelter from the burning sun. Vicram, tired with his
walk, threw himself down by the largest piece of rock he
could find, to rest. As he lay there, half asleep, a little
Cobra came out of a hole in the ground, and, seeing his ^ ' J
mouth wide open (which looked like some shady cranny in
a rock) crept in, and curled himself up in the Rajah's throat.

Vicram Maharajah called out to the Cobra, " Get out of
my throat." But the Cobra said, " No, I won't go ; I like
being here better than under ground j" and there he
stayed. Vicram didn't know what to do, for the Cobra
lived in his throat, and could not be got out. At times it
would peep out of his mouth, but the moment the Rajah
tried to catch it, it ran back again,

" Who ever heard of a Rajah in such a miserable
plight ! " sighed he to Butti ; " to think of having this
Cobra in my throat ! "

" Ah, my dear friend ! " Butti would answer ; " why will
you go roaming about the country by yourself; will you
never be cured of it ? "

" If one could only catch this Cobra, I'd be content to
wander no more," said the Rajah, " for my wandering has

\'\^y,\U'j\_

130 Old Dcccan Days.

not brought me much good of late." But to catch the
Cobra was more than any man could do. At last, one day,
Vicram, driven nearly mad in this perplexity, ran away into
the jungle. Tidings of this were soon brought to Butti,
who was much grieved to hear it, and sighed, saying,
" Alas ! alas ! of what avail to Vicram ]\Iaharajah is his
more than human wisdom, when the one unlucky self-
chosen gift neutralizes all the good he might do with it !
It has given him a love of wandering hither and thither,
minding everybody's business but his own ; his kingdom is
neglected, his people nncared for, and he, that used to be
the pride of all Rajahs, the best, the noblest, has finally
slunk out of his country, like a thief escaping from jail."

Butti sent messengers far and Avide seeking Vicram
Maharajah, but tliey could not find him ; he then deter-
mined to go himself in search of his lost friend ; and,
having made proper arrangements for the government of
the country during his absence, he set oft' on his travels.

Meantime Vicram wandered on and on until at last, one
day, he came to the Palace of a certain Rajah, who reigned
over a country very far from his own, and he sat down with
the beggars at the Palace gate.

Now, the Rajah at whose gate Vicram Maharajah sat,
had a good and lovely daughter, named Buccoulee." Many
Princes wished to marry this Princess, but she would marry
none of them. Her father and mother said to her, " Why
will you not choose a husband ? Among all these Princes
who ask you in marriage there are many rich and powerful
— many handsome and brave — many wise and good ; why

* Said to mean some sort of water-plant.

TJic Wanderings of Vicram Maharajah. 131

will you refuse them all?" The Princess repHed, "It is
not my destiny to marry any of them ; continually in my
dreams I see my destined husband, and I wait for him."
" Who is he ? " they asked. " His name," she answered,
" is the Rajah Vicram ; he will come from a very far
country ; he has not come yet." They replied, " There is
no Rajah, far or near, that we know of, of this name ; give
over this fancy of yours and marry some one else."

But she constantly refused, saying, " No, I will wait for
the Rajah Vicram." Her parents thought, "It may be
even as she says — who knows but perhaps some day a great
King, greater than any we know, may come to this country,
and wish to marry the girl ; we shall then be glad that we
had not obliged her to marry any of her present suitors."

No sooner had Vicram Maharajah come to the Palace
gate, and sat down there with the beggars, than the
Princess Buccoulee, looking out of the window, saw him,
and cried, " There is the husband I saw in my dreams ;
there is the Rajah Vicram." " Where, child ? where ? " said
her mother ; " there's no Rajah there ; only a parcel of
beggars."

But the Princess persisted that one of them was the Rajah
Vicram. Then the Ranee sent for Vicram Maharajah, and
questioned him.

He said his name was " Rajah Vicram." But the Rajah
and Ranee did not believe him ; and they were very angry
with the Princess because she persisted in saying that he,
and no other, would she marry. At last they got so
enraged with her, that they said, " Well, marry your beggar
husband, if you will, but don't think to remain any longer

132 Old Dcccan Days.

our daughter, after becoming his wife ; if you marry him it
shall be to follow his fortunes in the jungle ; we shall soon
see you repent your obstinacy."

" I will marry him, and follow him wherever he goes,"
said the Princess.

So Vicram Maharajah and the Princess Buccoulee were
married, and her parents turned her out of the house ;
nevertheless, they allowed her a little money, for, they said,
*' She will fast enough find the difference between a king's
daughter and a beggar's wife, without wanting food."

Vicram built a little hut in the jungle, and there they
lived ; but the poor Princess had a sad time of it, for she
was neither accustomed to cook nor wash, and the hard
work tired her very much. Her chief grief, however, was
that Vicram should have such a hideous tormentor as the
Cobra in his throat ; and often and often of a night she sat
awake, trying to devise some means for catching it, but all
in vain.

At last, one night \\\\t\\ she was thinking about it, she
saw close b)', two Cobras come out of their holes, and as they
began to talk, she listened to hear what they would say.

" Who are these people ?" said the first Cobra. " These,"
said the second, " are the Rajah Vicram, and his wife the
Princess Buccoulee." " What are they doing here? why is
the Rajah so far from his kingdom ? " asked the first
Cobra.

" Oh, he ran away, because he was so miserable ; he
has a Cobra that lives in his throat," answered the
second.

" Can no one get it out ? " said the first.

TJic Wanderings of Vicrani Maharajah. 133

" No," replied the other ; " because they do not know
the secret." " What secret ? " asked the first Cobra.
"Don't you know?" said the second; " why, if his wife
only took a iQ.w marking nuts,* and pounded them well, and
mixed them in cocoa-nut oil, and set the whole on fire : and
hung the Rajah, her husband, head downwards up in a tree
above it; the smoke, rising upwards, would instantly kill the
Cobra in his mouth, which would tumble down dead."

" I never heard of that before," said the first Cobra.

" Didn't you ! " exclaimed the second ; " why, if they
did the same thing at the mouth of your hole, they'd kill
you in no time ; and then, perhaps, they might find all the
fine treasure you have there ! " " Don't joke in that way,"
said the first Cobra, " I don't like it ;" and he crawled
away quite offended, and the second Cobra followed him.

No sooner had the Princess heard this, than she deter-
mined to try the experiment. So next morning she sent for
all the villagers living near (who all knew and loved her,
and would do anything she told them, because she was the
Rajah's daughter), and bade them take a great cauldron
and fill it with cocoa-nut oil, and pound down an immense
number of marking nuts and throw them into it, and then
bring the cauldron to her. They did so, and she set the
whole on fire, and caused Vicram to be hung up in a tree
overhead ; and as soon as the smoke from the cauldron
rose in the air it suffocated the Cobra in Vicram Maha-
rajah's throat, which fell down quite dead. Then the
Rajah Vicram said to his wife, " Oh worthy Buccoulee !
What a noble woman you are ! you have delivered me from

* Semecarpus anacardium.

134 ' Old Dcccan Days.

this tonnent, which -was more than all the wise men in my
kingdom could do."

Buccoulee then caused the cauldron of oil to be placed
close to the hole of the first Cobra, which she had heard
speaking the night before, and he was suffocated.

She then ordered the people to dig him out of his
hole; and in it they found a vast amount of treasure;
gold, silver, and jewels. Then Buccoulee sent for royal
robes for herself and lier husband, and bade him cut his
hair, and shave ; and when they were all ready, she took the
remainder of the treasure, and returned with it to her
father's house ; and her father and mother, who had re-
pented of their harshness, gladly welcomed her back, and
were both surprised and delighted to see all the vast
treasures she had, and what a handsome princely-looking
man her husband was.

Then one day news was brought to Vicram, that a
stranger Wuzeer had arrived in the Palace as the Rajah's
guest, and that this Wuzeer had for twelve years been
wandering round the world in search of his master, but not
having found him, was returning to his own home. Vicram
thought to himself, " Can this possibly be Butti ? " and he
ran to see.

It was indeed Butti, who cried for joy to see him, saying,
" Oh Vicram, Vicram ! do you know it is twelve years since
you left us all ? "

Then Vicram Maharajah told Butti how the good
Princess Buccoulee had married him, and succeeded in
killing the Cobra, and how he was then on the point of
returning to his own country. So they all set out together,

The Wanderings of Vicrani MaharajaJi. 135

being given many rich presents by Buccoulee's father and
mother. At last, after a long, long journey, they reached
home. Anar Ranee was overjoyed to see them again, for
she had long momnied her husband as dead. When Buc-
coulee Ranee was told who Anar Ranee was, and taken to
see her, she felt very much frightened, for she thought,
" Perhaps she will be jealous of me, and hate me." But
with a gentle smile Anar Ranee came to meet her, saying,
" Sister, I hear it is to you we owe the preservation of the
Rajah, and that it was you who killed the Cobra ; I can
never be sufficiently grateful 4o you, nor love you enough,
as long as I live."

From that day Vicram Maharajah stayed in his own
kingdom, ruling it wisely and well, and beloved by all. He
and Butti lived to a good old age, and their affection for
each other lasted as long as they lived. So that it became
a proverb in that country, and instead of saying, " So-and-
so love each other like brothers," (when speaking of two
who were much attached,) the people would say, " So-and-
so love each other like the Rajah and the Wuzeer."

VIII,

LESS INEQUALITY THAN MEN DEEM.

A YOUNG Rajah once said tcrhis Wuzeer,'^ " How is it that
I am so often ill ? I take great care of myself ; I never go
out in the rain; I wear wami clothes; I eat good food. Yet
I am always catching cold, or getting fever, in spite of all
precautions."

" Overmuch care is worse than none at all," answered the
Wuzeer, "which I will soon prove to you."

So he invited the Rajah to accompany him for a walk in
the fields. Before they had gone very far they met a poor
shepherd. The shepherd was accustomed to be out all day
long, tending his flock; he had only a coarse cloak on,
which served but insufficiently, to protect him from the rain
and the cold — from the dews by night, and the sun by day ;
his food was parched com, his drink water ; and he lived
out in the fields in a small hut made of plaited palm
branches. The Wuzeer said to the Rajah, " You know
perfectly well what hard lives these poor shepherds lead.
Accost this one, and ask him if he often suffers from the
exposure which he is obliged to undergo ?"

* Prime minister.

Less Inequality than Men Deem. 137

The Rajah did as the Wuzeer told him, and asked the
Shepherd whether he did not often suffer from rheumatism,
cold, and fever ? The Shepherd answered, " Perhaps it will
surprise you, Sire, to hear that I never suffer from either the
one or the other. From childhood I have been accustomed
to endure the extremes of heat and cold, and I suppose
that is why they never affect me."

At this the Rajah was very much astonished, and he said
to the Wuzeer, "I own I am surprised ; but doubtless this
shepherd is an extraordinarily strong man, whom nothing
would ever affect." " We shall see," said the Wuzeer ; and
he invited the Shepherd to the Palace. There, for a long
time, the Shepherd was taken great care of ; he was never
permitted to go out in the sun or rain, he had good food
and good clothes, and he was not allowed to sit in a draught
or get his feet wet. At the end of some months the Wuzeer
sent for him into a -marble courtyard, the floor of which he
caused to be sprinkled with water.

The Shepherd had been for some time so little used to
exposure of any kind, that wetting his feet caused him to
take cold ; the place felt to him chilly and damp after the
Palace ; he rapidly became worse, and in a short time, in
spite of all the doctors' care, he died. " Where is our friend
the Shepherd ? " asked the Rajah, a few days afterwards ;
" he surely could not have caught cold merely by treading
on the marble floor you had caused to be sprinkled with
water ? "

"Alas!" answered the Wuzeer, "the result was more
disastrous than I had anticipated ; the poor Shepherd
caught cold, and is dead. Having been lately accustomed

138

Old Dcccan Days.

to overmuch care, the sudden change of temperature killed
him.

" You see now to what dangers we are exposed from
which the poor are exempt. It is thus that Nature equalises
her best gifts ; wealth and opulence tend too frequently to
destroy health and shorten life, though they may give much
enjoyment to it whilst it lasts,"

IX.

PANCH-PHUL RANEE.

A CERTAIN Rajah* had two wives, of whom he preferred
the second, to the first ; the first Ranee,t had a son, but,
because he was not the child of the second Ranee, his
father took a great dishke to him, and treated liim so
harshly that the poor boy was very unhappy.

One day, therefore, he said to his mother, " Mother, my
father does not care for me, and my presence is only a vexa-
tion to him : I should be happier anywhere than here ; let
me therefore go, and seek my fortune in other lands."

So the Ranee asked her husband if he would allow their
son to travel ? He said, "The boy is free to go, but I don't
see how he is to live in any other part of the world, for he is
too stupid to earn his living, and I will give him no money
to squander on senseless pleasures." Then the Ranee told
her son that he had his father's permission to travel ; and
said to him, " You are going out into the world now to try
your luck ; take with you the food and clothes I have pro-
vided for your journey." And she gave him a bundle of
clothes and several small loaves, and in each loaf she placed
a gold mohur,J that on opening it, he might find money as.
well as food inside; and he started on his journey.

* King. t Queen. J A gold piece worth about ;^i los.

140 Old Dcccan Days.

When the young Rajah had travelled a long way, and left
his father's kingdom far behind, he one day came upon the
outskirts of a great city, where (instead of taking the position
due to his rank, and sending to inform the Rajah of his
arrival,) he went to a poor Carpenter's house, and begged of
him a lodging for the night. The Carpenter was busy
making wooden clogs in the porch of his house, but he
looked up and nodded, saying, " Young man, you are wel-
come to any assistance a stranger may need, and we can
give. If you are in want of food, you will find my wife and
daughter in the house — they will be happy to cook for you."
The Rajah went inside, and said to the Carpenter's daughter,
" I am a stranger, and have travelled a long way ; I am
both tired and hungry : cook me some dinner as fast as you
can, and I will pay you for your trouble." She answered,
" I would willingly cook you some dinner at once, but I
have no wood to light the fire, and the jungle is some way
off." " It matters not," said the Rajah, " this will do to
light the fire, and I'll make the loss good to your father;"
and taking a pair of new clogs which the Carpenter had just
finished making, he broke them up, and lighted the fire with
them.

Next morning he went into the jungle, cut wood, and
having made a pair of new clogs, — better than those with
which he had lighted the fire the evening before, — placed
them with the rest of the goods for sale in the Carpenter's
shop. Shortly afterwards, one of the Rajah of that country's
servants came to buy a pair of clogs for his master, and
seeing these new ones, said to the Carpenter, " Why, man,
these clogs are better than all the rest put together. I

Panch-Phnl Rancc. 1 4 1

will take none other to the Rajah. I wish you would
always make such clogs as these." And throwing down
ten gold mohurs'"' on the floor of the hut, he took up the
clogs and went away.

The Carpenter was much surprised at the whole business.
In the first place, he usually received only two or three
rupees f for each pair of clogs ; and in the second, he knew
that these which the Rajah's servant had judged worth ten
gold mohurs had not been made by him; and how they
had come there he could not think, for he felt certain they
were not with the rest of the clogs the night before. He
thought and thought, but the more he thought about the
matter, the more puzzled he got, and he went to talk about
it to his wife and daughter. Then his daughter said, "Oh,
those must have been the clogs the stranger made ! " And
she told her father how he had lighted the fire the night
before with two of the clogs which were for sale, and had
aftenvards fetched wood from the jungle and made another
pair to replace them.

The Carpenter at this news was more astonished than
ever, and he thought to himself, " Since this stranger seems
a quiet, peaceable sort of man, and can make clogs so
well, it is a great pity he should leave this place — he
would make a good husband for my daughter ;" and, catch-
ing hold of the young Rajah, he propounded his scheme to
him. (But all this time he had no idea that his guest was a
rajah.)

Now the Carpenter's daughter was a very pretty girl — as
pretty as any Ranee you ever saw ; she was also good-tem-

*;i^i5. t Four or six shillings.

142 Old Dcccan Days.

pered, clever, and could cook extremely well. So when the
Carpenter asked the Rajah to be his son-in-law, he looked
at the father, the mother, and the girl, and thinking to him-
self that many a better man had a worse fate, he said, " Yes,
I will marry your daughter, and stay here and make clogs."
So the Rajah married the Carpenter's daughter.

This Rajah was vtxy clever at making all sorts of things
in wood. When he had made all the clogs he wished to
sell next day, he would amuse himself in making toys ; and
in this way he made a thousand wooden parrots. They
were as like real parrots as possible. They had each two
wings, two legs, two eyes, and a sharp beak. And when
the Rajah had finished them all, he painted and varnished
them, and put them one afternoon outside the house to dry.

Night came on, and with it came Parbuttee and Mahdeo, "
flying round the world to see the different races of men.
Amongst the many places they visited, was the city where
the Carpenter lived ; and in the garden in front of the house
they saw the thousand wooden parrots which the Rajah had
made and painted and varnished, all placed out to drj-.
Then Parbuttee turned to IMahdeo, and said, " These par-
rots are very well made — they need nothing but life. Why
should not we give them life ?" Mahdeo answered, "What
would be the use of that ? It would be a strange freak,
indeed !" " Oh," said Parbuttee, " I only meant you to do
it as an amusement. It would be so funny to see the wooden
parrots flying about ! But do not do it if you don't like."
" You would like it then ?" answered IMahdeo ; " veiy

* The god jMalideo is an incarnation of Siva the Destroyer. The
goddess Parbuttee is his v.ife.

PancJi-PJnil Rancc.

143

well, I will do it." And he endowed the thousand parrots
with life.

Parbuttee and Mahdeo then flew away.

Next morning the Rajah got up early to see if the varnish
he had put on the wooden parrots was dry ; but no sooner
did he open the door than — marvel of marvels ! — the
thousand wooden parrots all came walking into the house,
flapping their wings and chattering to each other.

Hearing the noise, the Carpenter, and the Carpenter's wife,
and daughter, came running out to see what was the matter,
and were not less astonished than the Rajah himself at the
miracle which had taken place. Then the Carpenter's wife
turned to her son-in-law, and said, " It is all very well that
you should have made these wooden parrots ; but I don't
know where we are to find food for them ! great strong
parrots like these will eat not less than a pound of rice
a-piece every day. Your father-in-law and I cannot afford to
procure as much as that for them in this poor house. If you
wish to keep them, you must live elsewhere, for we cannot
provide for you all,"

" Very well," said the Rajah ; " you shall not have cause
to accuse me of ruining you, for from henceforth I will have
a house of my own." So he and his wife went to live in a
house of their own, and he took the thousand parrots with
him, and his mother-in-law gave her daughter some corn, and
rice, and money to begin housekeeping with. Moreover,
he found that the parrots, instead of being an expense,
were the means of increasing his fortune; for they flew
away every morning early to get food, and spent the whole
day out in the fields; and every evening, when they returned

144 Old Dcccan Days.

home, each parrot brought in his beak a stalk of com, or rice,
or whatever it had found, good to eat. So that their
master was regularly supplied with more food than enough ;
and what with selling what he did not require, and working
at his trade, he soon became quite a rich carpenter.

After he had been living in this way ver}' happily for some
time, one night, when he fell asleep, the Rajah dreamed a
wonderful dream, and this was the dream.

He thought that verj', very far away, beyond the Red Sea,
was a beautiful kingdom surrounded by seven other seas ; and
that it belonged to a Rajah and Ranee who had one lovely
daughter, named Panch-phul Ranee (the Five Flower queen),
after whom the whole kingdom was called Panch-phul
Ranee's country; and that this Princess lived in the centre
of her father's kingdom, in a little house round which were
seven wide ditches, and seven great hedges made of spears ;
and that she was called Panch-phul Ranee, because she was
so light and delicate, that she weighed no more than five
white lotus flowers ! Moreover, he dreamed that this Princess
had vowed to marry no one who could not cross the seven
seas, and jump the seven ditches, and seven hedges made of
spears.

After dreaming this, the young Rajah awoke, and feeling
much puzzled, got up, and sitting with his head in his
hands, tried to think the matter over, and discover if he had
ever heard anything like his dream before; but he could make
nothing of it.

Whilst he was thus thinking, his wife awoke, and asked
him what was the matter. He told her, and she said, " That
is a strange dream. If I were you, I'd ask the old parrot

Panch-Phul Ranee. 145

about it ; he is a wise bird, and perliaps he knows." This
parrot of which she spoke was the most wise of all the
thousand wooden parrots. The Rajah took his wife's advice,
and when all the birds came home that evening, he called
the old parrot, and told him his dream, saying, " Can this be
true?" To which the parrot replied, "It is all true. The
Panch-Phul Ranee's country lies beyond the Red Sea, and is
surrounded by seven seas, and she dwells in a house built in
the centre of her father's kingdom. Round her house are
seven ditches and seven hedges made of spears, and she has
vowed not to marry any man who cannot jump these seven
ditches and seven hedges ; and because she is very beautiful,
many great and noble men have tried to do this, but in
vain.

" The Rajah and Ranee, her father and mother, are
very fond of her, and proud of her. Every day she goes
to the palace to see them, and they weigh her in a pair
of scales. They put her in one scale, and five lotus flowers
in the other, and she's so delicate and fragile, she weighs no
heavier than the five little flowers, so they call her the
Panch-Phul Ranee. Her father and mother are veiy proud
of this."

" I should like to go to that country and see the Panch-
Phul Ranee," said the Rajah ; " but I don't know how I
could cross the seven seas." " I will show you how to
manage that," replied the old parrot. "I and another parrot
will fly close together, I crossing my left, over his right wing; so
that we will move along as if we were one bird, (using only our
outside wings to fly with,) and on the chair made of our inter-
laced wings, you shall sit, and we will carry you safely across

146 Old Dcccan Days.

the seven seas. On the way, we will every evening alight in
some high tree and rest, and every morning we can go on
again." " That sounds a good plan ; I have a great desire
to try it," said the Rajah. " ^^'ife, what should you think of
my going to the Panch-Phul Ranee's country, and seeing if
I can jump the seven ditches and seven hedges made of
spears ? Will you let me try % "

" Yes," she answered. ." If you like to go and marry her,
go ; only take care that you do not kill yourself ; and mind
you come back some day." And she prepared food for him
to take with him, and took off her gold and silver bangles,
which she placed in a bundle of warm things, that he might
be in need neither of money nor clothes on the journey. He
then charged the nine hundred and ninety-eight parrots he
left behind him, to bring her plenty of corn and rice daily,
(that she might never need food while he was away,) and took
her to the house of her father, in whose care she was to re-
main during his absence ; and he wished her good-bye, say-
ing, " Do not fear but that I will come back to you, even
if I do wan the Panch-Phul Ranee, for you will always be
my first wife, though you are the Carpenter's daughter."

The old parrot and another parrot then spread their wings,
on which the Rajah seated himself as on a chair, and rising
up in the air, they flew away with him out of sight.

Far, far, far, they flew, as fast as parrots can fly, over hills,
over forests, over rivers, over valleys, on, on, on, hour after
hour, day after day, week after week, only staying to rest
every night when it got too dark to see where they were
going. At last they reached the seven seas which surrounded
the Panch-Phul Ranee's country. "\Mien once they began

PancJi-PJml Rancc. 147

crossing the seas they could not rest (for there was neither
rock nor island on which to ahght), so they were obhged to
fly straight across them, night and day, until they gained the
shore.

By reason of this, the parrots were too exhausted, on their
arrival, to go as far as the city where the Rajah, Panch-
Phul Ranee's father, lived, but they flew down to rest on a
beautiful banyan tree, which grew not far from the sea,
close to a small village. The Rajah determined to go into
the village, and get food and shelter there. He told the
parrots to stay in the banyan tree till his return ; then,
leaving his bundle of clothes, and most of his money,
in their charge, he set off on foot towards the nearest
house.

After a little while he reached a Malee's* cottage, and,
giving a gold mohur| to the Malee's wife, got her to pro
vide him with food and shelter for the night.

Next morning he rose early, and said to his hostess, —
" I am a stranger here, and know nothing of the place. What
is the name of your country?" "This," she said, " is Panch-
Phul Ranee's country,"

"And what is the last news in your town?" he asked.
" Very bad news indeed," she replied. " You must know,
our Rajah has one only daughter — a most beautiful Princess
— and her name is Panch-Phul Ranee ; for she is so light
and delicate, that she weighs no heavier than five lotus
flowers. After her this whole country is called Panch-Phul
Ranee's country. She lives in a small bungalow t in the
centre of the city you see yonder; but unluckily for us,

* Gardener's. '\' £i los. J House.

L 2

148 Old Dcccan Days.

slie has vowed to many no man who cannot jump on foot over
the seven hedges made of spears, and across the seven great
ditches, that surround her house. This cannot be done.
Babamah!* I don't know how many hundreds of thousands
of Rajahs have tried to do it, and died in the attempt ! Yet
the Princess will not break her vow. Daily, worse and worse
tidings come from the city, of fresh people having been killed
in tr)'ing to jumjD the seven hedges and seven ditches, and
I see no end to the misfortunes that will arise from it. Not
only are so many brave men lost to the world, but, since the
Princess will marry no one who does not succeed in this,
she stands a chance of not marrying at all ; and if that be
so ; when the Rajah dies there will be no one to protect her
and claim the right to succeed to the throne. All the nobles
will probably fight for the Raj,| and the whole kingdom be
turned topsy-turvy."

" Mahi," \ said the Rajah, "if that is all, I will tiy and win
your Princess, for I can jump right well."

" Baba," § answered the Malee's v.-ife, " do not think of
such a thing — are you mad % I tell you, hundreds of thou-
sands of men have said these words before, and been killed
in their rashness. What power do you think you possess to
succeed, where all before you have failed ? Give up all
thought of this, for it is utter folly !"

" I will not do it," answered the Rajah, " before going to
consult some of my friends."

So he left the Malee's cottage, and returned to the banyan
tree to talk over the matter with the parrots ; for he thought
they would be able to carry him on their wings across the
* Oh my child ! t Kingdom. J Woman or mother. § Child.

Panch-PJud Rancc. 149

seven ditches and seven hedges made of spears. When he
reached the tree the old parrot said to him, " It is two days
since you left us ; what news have you brought from the
village ? " The Rajah answered, " The Panch-Phul Ranee
still lives in the house surrounded by the seven ditches and
seven hedges made of spears, and has vowed to marry no
man who cannot jump over them ; but cannot you parrots,
who brought me all the way across the seven seas, carry me
on your wings across these great barriers ?"

"You stupid man," answered the old parrot, "of course
we could ; but what would be the good of doing so ? If we
carried you across, it would not be at all the same thing as
your jumping across, and the Princess would no more con-
sent to marry you, than she would now ; for she has vowed
to many no one who has not jumped across on foot. If you
want to do the thing, why not do it yourself, instead of
talking nonsense. Have you forgotten how, when you were
a little boy, you were taught to jump by conjurors and
tumblers? (for the parrot knew all the Rajah's history.) Now ^ »

is the time to put their lessons in practice. If you can jump ' ■' '■'"*''
the seven ditches and seven hedges made of spears, you
will have done a good work, and be able to many the
Panch-Phul Ranee ; but if not, this is a thing in which we
cannot help you."

"You reason justly," replied the Rajah. " I will try to
put in practice the lessons I learnt when a boy ; meantime,
do you stay here till my return."

So saying he went away to the city, which he reached by
nightfall. Next morning early he went to where the Prin-
cess' bungalow stood, to try and jump the fourteen great

ISO Old Dcccan Days.

barriers. He was strong and agile, and he jumped the
seven great ditches, and six, of the seven hedges made of
spears ; but in running to jump the seventh hedge, he hurt
his foot, and, stumbhng, fell upon the spears and died ; run
through and through with the cruel iron spikes.

When Panch-Phul Ranee's father and mother got up that
morning and looked out, as their custom was, towards their
daughter's bungalow, they saw something transfixed upon
the seventh hedge of spears, but Avhat it was, they could not
make out, for it dazzled their eyes. So the Rajah called his
Wuzeer,* and said to him, " For some days I have seen no
one attempt to jump tlie seven hedges and seven ditches
round Panch-Phul Ranee's bungalow ; but what is that which
I now see upon the seventh hedge of spears ? " The Wuzeer
answered, "That is a Rajah's son, who has failed like all
who have gone before him." "But how is it," asked the
Rajah, " that he thus dazzles our eyes ? "

" It is," replied the Wuzeer, "because he is so beautiful.
Of all that have died for the sake of Panch-Phul Ranee, this
youth is, beyond doubt, the handsomest." "Alas!" cried
the Rajah, " how many and how many brave men has my
daughter killed? I will have no more die for her. Let
us send her and the dead man together away into the
jungle."

Then he ordered the servants to fetch the young Rajah's
body. There he lay, still and beautiful, with a glory shining
round him as the moonlight shines round the clear bright
moon, but without a spark of life.

When the Rajah saw him, he said, " Oh pity, pity, that
* Prime minister.

PancJi-Phnl Rancc. 1 5 1

so brave and handsome a boy should have come dyuig after
this girl. Yet he is but one of the thousands of thousands,
who have died thus to no purpose. Pull up the spears and
cast them into the seven ditches, for they shall remain no
longer."

Then he commanded two palanquins to be prepared, and
men in readiness to carry them, and said, " Let the girl be
married to the young Rajah, and let both be taken far
away into the jungle, that we may never see them more.
Then there will be quiet in the land again."

The Ranee, Panch-Phul Ranee's mother, cried bitterly at
this, for she was very fond of her daughter, and she begged
her husband not to send her away so cruelly — the living
with the dead ; but the Rajah was inexorable. " That poor
boy died," he said ; " let my daughter die too. I'll have no
more men killed here."

So the two palanquins were prepared. Then he placed
his daughter in the one, and her dead husband in the other,
and said to the palkee * bearers, " Take these palkees and
go out into the jungle until you have reached a place so
desolate that not so much as a sparrow is to be seen, and
there leave them both."

And so they did. Deep down in the jungle, where no
bright sun could pierce the darkness, nor human voice be
heard, far from any habitation of man, or means of sup-
porting life, on the edge of a dank, stagnant morass, that
was shunned by all but noisome reptiles and wandering
beasts of prey, they set them down and left them, the
dead husband and the living wife, alone to meet the

* Palanquin.

152 Old Dcccan Days.

horrors of the coming night — alone, without a chance of
rescue.

Panch-Phul Ranee heard the bearers' retreating footsteps,
and their voices getting fainter and fainter in the distance,
and felt that she had nothing to hope for, but death.

Night seemed coming on apace, for though the sun had
not set, the jungle was so dark that but little light pierced the
gloom — and she thought she would take a last look at the
husband her vow had killed, and sitting beside him wait till
starvation should make her, as he was, or some wild animal
put a more speedy end to her sufferings.

She left her palkee and went towards his. There he lay
with closed eyes and close-shut lips — black curling hair,
which escaped from under his turban, concealed a ghastly
wound on his temple. There was no look of pain on the
face, and the long sweeping eyelashes gave it such a tender,
softened expression she could hardly believe that he vras
dead. He was, in truth, very beautiful ; and watching him
she said to herself, " Alas, what a noble being is here lost
to the world — what an earth's joy is extinguished ! Was it
for this that I was cold, and proud, and stern — to break the
cup of my own happiness, and to be the death of such as you?
]\Iust you now never know that you won your wife ? Must
you never hear her ask your pardon for the past, nor know
her cruel punishment ? Ah, if you had but lived, how dearly
I would have loved you ! Oh my husband, my husband ! "
And sinking down on the ground she buried her face in her
hands, and cried bitterly.

While she was sitting thus, night closed over the jungle,
and brouGfht with it wild beasts that had left their dens and

J. V?. WHYMPEK,

THE JACKAL PHYSICIAN,

Panch-PJml Rancc. ■ 153

lairs in search of prey ; to roam about, as the heat of the
day was over. Tigers, Hons, elephants, and bison, all came
by turns crushing through the underwood which surrounded
the place where the palkees were, but they did no harm to
Panch-Phul Ranee ; for she was so fair that not even the
cruel beasts of the forest would injure her. At last about
four o'clock- in the morning all the wild animals had gone,
except two little jackals, who had been very busy watching
the rest, and picking the bones left by the tigers. Tired
with running about, they lay down to rest close to the pal-
kees. Then one little jackal said to the other, who was
her husband, " Do tell me a little story." " Dear me ! "
he exclaimed, " what people you women are for stories !
Well, look just in front of you ; do you see those two ? "
" Yes," she answered ; " what of them ? " " That woman
you see sitting on the ground," he said, " is the Panch-Phul
Ranee." " And what son of a Rajah is the man in the
palkee ? " asked she. " That," he replied, " is a very sorrow-
ful son. His father was so unkind to him that he left his
own home, and went to live in another country very far
from this; and there he dreamed about the Panch-Phul
Ranee, and came to our land in order to marry her, but he
was killed in jumping the seventh hedge of spears, and so
all he gained was to die for her sake."

" That is very sad," said the first little jackal ; " but could
he never by any chance come to life again ? " " Yes," an-
swered the other ; " may be he could, if only some one knew
how to apply the proper remedies." " ^Vhat are the proper
remedies, and how could he be cured ? " asked the lady
jackal. (Now all this conversation had been heard by

154 Old Dcccan Days.

Panch-Phul Ranee, and when this question was asked, she
listened very eagerly and attentively for the answer.)

" Do you see this tree?" replied her husband. " Well, if
some of its leaves were crushed, and a little of the juice put
into the Rajah's two ears, and upon his upper lip, and some
upon his temples also, and some upon the spear wounds in
his side, he would come to life again, and be as well as ever."

At this moment, day dawned, and the two little jackals
ran away. Panch-Phul Ranee did not forget their words.
She, a Princess born, who had never put her foot to the
ground before (so delicately and tenderly had she been
reared), walked over the rough clods of earth, and the sharp
stones, till she reached the place where the tree grew of
which the jackals had spoken. She gathered a number of
its leaves ; and with hands and feet that had never before
done coarse or common work, beat and crushed them down.
They were so stiff and strong that it took her a long time.
At last, after tearing them, and stamping on them, and
pounding them between two stones, and biting the hardest
parts, she thought they were sufficiently crushed ; and roll-
ing them up in a corner ofher saree,* she squeezed the juice
through it, on to her husband's temples, and put a little on
his upper lip, and into his ears, and some also on the spear
Avound in his side. And when she had done this, he awoke,
as if he had been only sleeping, and sat up, wondering where
he was. Before him stood Panch-Phul Ranee shining like
a glorious star, and all around them was the dark jungle.

It would be hard to say which of them was the most
astonished — the Rajah or the Princess. She was surprised

PancJi-Phul Rancc. 1 5 5

that the remedy should have taken such speedy effect ; and
could hardly believe her eyes when she saw her husband get
up. And if he looked beautiful when dead, much more
handsome did he seem to her now — so full of life, and
animation, and power — the picture of health and strength.
And he in his turn was lost in amazement at the exquisite
loveliness of the lady who stood before him. He did not
know who she could be, for he had never seen her like,
except in a dream. Could she be really the world-renowned
Panch-Phul Ranee ? or was he dreaming still ? He feared
to move lest he should break the spell. But as he sat there
wondering, she spoke, saying, "You marvel at what has
taken place. You do not know me — I am Panch-Phul
Ranee, your wife."

Then he said, " Ah, Princess, is it indeed you ? You
have been very hard to me." " I know, I know," she an-
swered ; " I caused your death, but I brought you to life
again. Let the past be forgotten ; come home with me,,
and my father and mother will welcome you as a son."

He replied, " No, I must first return to my own home
awhile. Do you rather return there now with me, for it is
a long time since I left it, and afterwards we will come
again to your father's kingdom."

To this Panch-Phul Ranee agreed. It took them, how-
ever, a long time to find their way out of the jungle. At
last they succeeded in doing so, for none of the wild animals
in it attempted to injure them — so beautiful and royal did
they both look.

When they reached the banyan tree, where the Rajah had
left the two parrots, the old parrot called out to him, " So

1 5 6 Old Dcccan Da) -s.

you have come back at last ! we thought you never would,
you were such a long time away ! There you went, leaving
us here all the time, and after all doing no good, but only
getting yourself killed. Why didn't you do as we advised
you, and jump up nicely ?"

" Well, I'm sure," said the Rajah, " yours is a hard case ;
but I beg your pardon for keeping you waiting so long, and
now I hope you'll take me and my wife home."

"Yes, we will do that," answered the parrots ; "but you
had better get some dinner first, for it's a long journey over
the seven seas."

So the Rajah went to the village close by, and bought food
for himself and the Panch-Phul Ranee. When he returned
with it, he said to her, " I fear the long journey before us
for you ; had you not better let me make it alone, and re-
turn here for you when it is over 1 " But she answered,
" No ! what could I, a poor, weak woman, do here alone ?
and I will not return to my father's house till you can come
too. Take me with you, however far you go, only promise
me }-ou will never leave me." So he promised her, and they
both, mounting the parrots, were carried up in the air across
the seven seas, across the Red Sea, on, on, on, a whole
year's journey, until they reached his father's kingdom, and
alighted to rest at the foot of the palace garden. The
Rajah, however, did not know where he was, for all had
much changed since he left it some years before.

Then a little son was born to the Rajah and Panch-Phul
Ranee. He was a beautiful child, but his father was grieved
to think, that in that bleak place, there was no shelter for the
mother or the baby. So he said to his wife, "I will go to

Panch-Phul Ranee. 1 5 7

fetch food for us both, and fire to cook it with, and inquire
what this country is, and seek out a place of rest for you.
Do not be afraid ; I shall soon return." Now, far off in the
distance, smoke was to be seen rising from tents which be-
longed to some conjurors, and dancing people, and thither
the Rajah bent his steps, feeling certain he should be able
to get fire, and perhaps food also, from the inhabitants.
When he got there, he found the place was much larger than
he had expected, quite a good-sized village in fact; the
abode of nautch-people * and conjurors. In all the houses
the people were busy, some dancing, some singing, others
trying various conjuring tricks, or practising beating the
drum, and all seemed happy and joyful.

When the conjurors saw him, they were so much struck
with his appearance (for he was very handsome) that they
determined to make him, if possible, stay among them, and
join their band. And they said one to another, " How well
he would look beating the drum for the dancers ! All the
world would come to see us dance, if we had such a hand-
some man as that to beat the drum,"

The Rajah, unconscious of their intentions, went into the
largest hut he saw, and said to a woman who was grinding
corn, " Bai, | give me a little rice, and some fire from your
hearth." She immediately consented, and got up to fetch
the burning sticks he asked for ; but before she gave them
to him, she and her companions threw upon them a certain
powder, containing a very potent charm; and no sooner did
the Rajah receive them, than he forgot about his wife and
little child, his journey, and all that had ever happened to
* Dancing people. + \Yoman.

158 Old Dcccan Days.

him in his hfe before ; such was the peciihar property of the
powder. And when the conjurors said to him, "Why should
you go away ? stay with us, and be one of us," he wilhngly
consented to do so.

All this time, Panch-Phul Ranee waited, and waited, for
her husband, but he never came. Night approached without
his having brought her any food, or news of having found a
place of shelter for her and the baby. At last, faint and
weary, she swooned away.

It happened that that very day the Ranee (Panch-Phul
Ranee's husband's mother) lost her youngest child, a fine little
boy of only a day old ; and her servants took its body to the
bottom of the garden to bury it. Just as they were going
to do so, they heard a low cry, and, looking round, saw
close by, a beautiful woman lying on the ground, dead, or
apparently so, and beside her a fine little baby boy. The idea
immediately entered their heads, of leaving the dead baby
beside the dead woman, and taking her living baby back
with them to the palace, and so they did.

\\^-ien they returned, they said to their mistress, " Your
child did not die, see here it is, it got well again," and showed
her Panch-Phul Ranee's baby ; but after a time, when the
Ranee questioned them about it, they told her the whole
truth, but she had become meanwhile very fond of the little
boy, and so he continued in the palace, and was brought
up as her son ; being, in truth, her grandson, though she
did not know it.

Meantime the palace Malee's "^' wife went out, as her cus-
tom was ever}.' morning and evening, to gather flowers. In

* Gardener's.

PancJi-PJiul Raiicc. 1 5 9

search of them she wandered as far as the jungle at the
bottom of the garden, and there she found the Panch-Phul
Ranee lying as dead, and the dead baby beside her.

The good woman felt veiy sorry, and rubbed the Ranee's
cold hands, and gave her sweet flowers to smell, in hopes
that she might revive. At last she opened her eyes, and,
seeing the Malee's wife, said, " Where am I ? has not my
husband come back ? and who are you ? "

" My poor lady," answered the Malee's wife, " I do not
know where your husband is. I am the Malee's wife, and,
coming here to gather flowers, I found you lying on the
ground, and this your little baby, which is dead ; but come
home with me, I will take care of you."

Panch-Phul Ranee answered, " Kind friend, this is not
my baby ; he did not die ; he was the image of his father,
and fairer than this child. Some one must have taken him
away, for but a little while ago I held him in my arms, and
he was strong and well, while this one could never have
been more than a puny, weakly infant. Take me away; I
will go home with you."

So the Malee's wife buried the dead child, and took the
Panch-Phul Ranee to her house, where she Hved for fourteen
years ; but all that time she could learn no tidings of her
husband or her lost little boy. The child, meanwhile, grew
up in the palace, and became a very handsome youth. One
day he was wandering round the garden, and chanced to
pass the Malee's house. The Panch-Phul Ranee was sitting
within watching the Malee's wife cook their dinner.

The young Prince saw her, and calling the Malee's wife,
said to her, " What beautiful lady is that in your house ?

l6o Old Dcccan Days.

and how did she come there?" She answered, "Little
Prince, what nonsense you talk; there is no lady here."
He said again, " I know tliere is a beautiful lady here, for
I saw her as I passed the open door." She replied, " If
you come telling such tales about my house, I'll pull your
tongue out." For she thought to herself, " Unless I scold
him well, the boy 'II go talking about what he's seen in the
palace, and then perhaps some of the people from there will
come and take the poor Panch-Phul Ranee away from my
care." But Avhilst the IMalee's wife was talking to the young
Prince, the Panch-Phul Ranee came from the inner room to
watch and listen to him, unobserved ; and no sooner did
she see him, than she could not forbear crying out, "Oh, how
like he is to my husband ! The same eyes, the same shaped
face, and the same king-like bearing ! Can he be my son ?
He is just the age my son would have been had he lived ! "

The young Prince heard her speaking, and asked what
she said, to "which the Malee's wife replied, " The woman
you saw, and who just now spoke, lost her child fourteen
years ago, and she was saying to herself how like you were
to that child, and thinking you must be the same, but she
is wrong, for we know you are the Ranee's son." Then
Panch-Phul Ranee herself came out of the house, and said
to him, " Young Prince, I could not, when I saw you, help
exclaiming how like you are to what my lost husband was,
and to what my son might have been; for it is now four-
teen years since I lost them both." And she told him how
she had been a great Princess, and was returning with her
husband to his own home (to which they had got half way
in reaching that place), and how her little baby had been

PancJi-Phul Raiicc. i6i

born in the jungle, and her husband had gone away to seek
shelter for her and the child, and fire and food, and had
never returned ; and also how, when she had fainted away,
some one had certainly stolen her baby and left a dead
child in its place, and how the good Malee's wife had be-
friended her, and taken her ever since to live in her house.
And when she had ended her story she began to cry.

But the Prince said to her, " Be of good cheer ; I will
endeavour to recover your husband and child for you : who
knows but I may indeed be your son, beautiful lady." And
running home to the Ranee (his adopted mother), he said
to her, "Are you really my mother ? Tell me truly; for
this 1 must know before the sun goes down." " Why do
you ask foolish questions?" she replied; "have I not
always treated you as a son?" Yes," he said; "but tell
me in very truth am I your own child ? or the child of some
one else, adopted as yours ? If you do not tell me, I will
kill myself" And so saying, he drew his sword. She re-
plied, " Stay, stay, and I will tell you the whole truth : the
day before you were born I had a little baby, but it died ;
and my servants took it to the bottom of the garden to bury
it, and there they found a beautiful woman lying as dead,
and beside her v/as a living infant. You were that child.
They brought you to the palace, and I adopted you as my
son, and they left my baby in your stead." " What became
of my mother?" he asked. "I cannot tell," answered the
Ranee ; " for, two days afterwards, when I sent to the same
place, she and the baby had both disappeared, and I have
never since heard of her."

The young Prince on hearing this, said, " There is in

M

i63 Old Dcccau Days.

the head Malee's house a beautiful lady whom the Malee's
wife found in the jungle fourteen years ago ; — that must be
my mother. Let her be received here this very day with all
honour ; for that is the only reparation that can now be
made to her."

• The Ranee consented, and the young Prince went down to
the Malee's house himself, to fetch his mother to the palace.

With him he took a great .retinue of people, and a beau-
tiful palanquin for her to go in, covered with rich trappings ;
also costly things for her to wear, and many jewels, — and
presents for the good ]Malee's wife.

"When Panch-Phul Ranee had put on her son's gifts, and
come out of the Alalee's poor cottage to meet him, all the
people said there had never been so royal-looking a queen.
As gold and clear cr)-stal are lovely, as mother-of-pearl is
exquisitely fair and delicate-looking, — so beautiful, so fair, so
delicate appeared Panch-Phul Ranee.

Her son conducted her with much pomp and state to the
palace, and did all in his power to honour her ; and there
she lived long very happily, and beloved by all.

One day the young Prince begged her to tell him again,
from the beginning, the story of her hfe, and as much as
she knew of his father's life ; and so she did. And after
that, he said to her, " Be no longer sad, dear mother, re-
garding my father's fate ; for I will send into all lands to
gather tidings of him, and may be in the end we shall find
him." And he sent people out to hunt for the Rajah all
over the kingdom, and in all neighbouring countries ; — to
the north, to the south, to the east, and to the west, — but
they found him not.

Panch-PJud Rancc. 163

At last (after four years of unsuccessful search), when there
seemed no hope of ever learning what had become of him,
Panch-Phul Ranee's son came to see her, and said, " Mother,
I have sent into all lands seeking my father, but can hear
no news of him. If there were only the slightest clue as to
the direction in which he went, there would be still some
chance of tracing him, but that I fear cannot be got. Do
you not remember his having said anything of the way
which he intended to go when he left you?" She answered,,
" When your father went away, his words to me were, ' I
will go to fetch food for us both, and fire to cook it with,
and inquire what this country is, and seek out a place of
shelter for you. Do not be afraid, I shall soon return."
That was all he said, and then he went away, and I never
saw him more."

" In what direction did he go from the foot of the garden?"
asked the Prince. " He went," answered the Panch-Phul
Ranee, " towards that little village of conjurors close by. I
thought he was intending to ask some of them to give us
food. But had he done so, he would certainly have returned
in a very short time."

" Do you think you should know my father, mother
darling, if you were to see him again?" asked the Prince.
" Yes," answered she, " I should know him again."
" What ! " he said, " even though eighteen years have gone
by since you saw him last ? Even though age, and sick-
ness, and want, had done their utmost to change him?"
" Yes !" she replied ; " his every feature is so impressed on
my heart, that I should know him again anywhere, or in any
disguise."

M 2

164 Old Dec can Days.

" Then let us," he said, " send for all those people in the
direction of \vhose houses he went away. i\Iay be they have
detained him among them to this day. It is but a chance,
but we can hope for nothing more certain."

So the Panch-Phul Ranee and her son sent down orders to
the conjurors' village, that every one of the v.-hole band
should come up to the palace that afternoon ; — not a soul
was to stay behind. And the dancers were to dance, and
the conjurors to play all their tricks, for the amusement of
the palace inmates.

The people came. The nautch girls began to dance —
running, jumping, and flying here, there, and everj^vhere,
some up, some down, some round and round. The conju-
rors conjured; and all began in different^ ways to amuse
the company. Among the rest was one wild, ragged-looking
man, whose business was to beat the drum. No sooner did
the Panch-Phul Ranee set eyes on him, than she said to her
son, "Boy, that is your father 1" "AVhat, mother," he said,
"that wretched-looking man who is beating the drum?"
" The same," she answered.

The Prince said to his servants, " Fetch that man here."
And the Rajah came tov/ards them : so changed, that not
even his own mother knew him ; — no one recognised him
but his wife ! For eighteen years he had been among the
nautch people ; his hair was rough, his beard untrimmed,
his face thin, and worn, sunburnt, and wrinkled ; he wore a
nose-ring, and heavy ear-rings such as the nautch people
have ; and his dress was a rough common cumlee."' All
traces of his former self seemed to have disappeared. They
* A coarse woollen blanket.

PancJL-PJml Rancc. 165

asked him if he did not remember he had been a Rajah
once; and about his journey to Panch-Phul Ranee's country?
But he said, No, he remembered nothing but how to beat
the drum — Rub-a-dub ! tat-tat ! tom-tum ! tom-tum ! He
thought he must have beaten it all his life.

Then the young Prince gave orders that all the nautch
people should be put into jail, until it could be discovered
what part they had taken, in reducing his father to so piti-
able a state. And, sending for the wisest doctors in the
kingdom, he said to them, " Do your best, and restore the
health of this Rajah, who has to all appearance lost both
memory and reason; and discover, if possible, what has caused
these misfortunes to befal him." The doctors said, " He
has certainly had some potent charm given to him, which
has destroyed both his memory and reason, but we will do
our best to counteract, its influence."

And so they did. And their treatment succeeded so well,
that, after a time, the Rajah entirely recovered his former
senses. And they took such good care of him, that within
a while he regained his health and strength also, and looked
almost as well as ever.

He then found to his surprise that he, Panch-Phul Ranee,
and their son, had all this time been living in his father's
kingdom. His fxther was so delighted to see him again, that
he was no longer unkind to him, but treated him as a dearly
beloved, long-lost son. His mother also was overjoyed at
his return, and they said to him, "Since you have been
restored to us again, why should you wander any more ?
Your wife and son are here ; do you also remain here, and
live among us for the rest of your days." But he replied.

1 66 Old Deccan Days.

" I have another wife — the Carpenter's daughter, who first
was kind to me in my adopted countr}% I also have there
nine hundred and ninety-eight talking wooden parrots, which
I greatly prize. Let me first go and fetch them."

They said, " Very well ; go quickly and return." So he
mounted the two wooden parrots which had brought him
from the Panch-Phul Ranee's country (and which had for
eighteen years lived in the jungle close to the palace), and
returned to the land where his first wife lived, and fetched
her and the nine hundred and ninety-eight remaining wooden
parrots to his father's kingdom. Then his father said to him,
" Don't have any quarrelling with your half-brother after I
am dead (for his half-brother was son of the old Rajah's
favourite wife). " I love you both dearly, and will give
each of you half of my kingdom." So he divided the
kingdom into two halves, and gave the one half to the
Panch-Phul Ranee's husband, who was the son of his first
wife, and the other half to the eldest son of his second but
favourite wife.

A short time after this arrangement was made, Panch-
Phul Ranee said to her husband, " I wish to see my father
and mother again before I die ; let me go and see them."
He answered, " You shall go, and I and our son will also
go." So he called four of the wooden parrots — two to
cany himself and the Ranee, and two to carry their son.
Each pair of parrots crossed their wings ; the young
Prince sat upon the two wings of one pair, and on
the wings of the other pair sat his father and mother.
Then they all rose up in the air, and the parrots carried
them (as they had before carried the Rajah alone) —

PancJi-PJuil Rancc. 167

up, ujD, up — on, on, on — over the Red Sea, and across
the seven seas, until they reached the Panch-Phul Ranee's
country.

Panch-Phul Ranee's father saw them come flymg through
the air, as quickly as shooting stars ; and much wondering
who they were, he sent out many of his nobles and chief
officers to inquire.

The nobles went out to meet them, and called out,
"What great Rajah is this who is dressed so royally ! and
comes flying through the air so fast ! Tell us, that we may
tell our Rajah ? "

The Rajah answered, " Go and tell your master that this
is Panch-Phul Ranee's husband come to visit his father-in-
law." So they took that answer back to the palace ; but
when the Rajah heard it, he said, " I cannot tell what this
means — for the Panch-Phul Ranee's husbaiid died long ago.
It is twenty years since he fell upon the iron spears and
died ; let us, however, all go and discover who this great
Rajah really is." And he and all his court went out to meet
the new comers — ^just as the parrots had alighted close to
the palace gate. The Panch-Phul Ranee took her son by the
one hand and her husband by the other, and walking to meet
her father, said, " Father, I have come to see you again.
This is my husband who died, and this boy is my son."
Then all the land was glad to see the Panch-Phul Ranee
back, and the people said, " Our Princess is the most beauti-
ful Princess in the world, and her husband is as handsome
as she is, and her son is a fair boy ; we will that they should
always live among us, and reign over us."

When they had rested a little, the Panch-Phul Ranee told

i68 Old Dcccan Days.

her father and mother the story of all her adventures from
the time she and her husband were left in the palkees in the
jungle. And when they had heard it, her father said to the
Rajah her husband, " You must never go away again ; for
see, I have no son but you. You and your son must reign
here after me. And behold all this great kingdom Avill I
now give you, if you will only stay with us ; for I am old
and weary of governing the land."

But the Rajah answered, " I must return once again to
my own country, and then I will stay v*-ith you as long as I
live."

So leaving the Panch-Phul Ranee and her son with the
old Rajah and Ranee, he mounted his parrots and once
more returned to his father's land. And when he had
reached it, he said to his mother, " ISIother, my father-in-law
has given me a kingdom ten thousand times larger than this.
So I have but returned to bid you farewell, and fetch my first
wife, and then I must go back to live in that other land."
She answered, *' Very well ; so you are happy anpvhere, I
am happy too."

He then said to his half-brother, " Brother, my father-in-
law has given me all the Panch-Phul Ranee's countr}-, which
is very far away, therefore I give up to you, the half of this
kingdom that my father gave to me." Then bidding his
father farewell, he took the Carpenter's daughter back with
him (riding through the air on two of the wooden parrots,
and followed by the rest) to the Panch-Phul Ranee's countrj^,
and there he, and his tv.-o wives, and his son, lived \txy
happily all their mortal days.

HOW THE SUN, THE MOON, AND THE
WIND, WENT OUT TO DINNER.

One day the Sun, the Moon, and the Wind went out to
dine with their uncle and aunt, the Thunder and Lightning.
Their mother (one of the most distant stars you see far up
in the sky) waited alone for her children's return.

Now both the Sun and the Wind were greedy and selfish.
They enjoyed the great feast that had been prepared for
them, without a thought of saving any of it to take home to
their mother — but the gentle Moon did not forget her. Of
every dainty dish that was brought round, she placed a small
portion under one of her beautiful long finger-nails, that the
Star might also have a share in the treat.*

On their return, their mother, who had kept watch for

* See Notes at the end.

I70

them all night long with her little bright eye, said, " Well,
children, what have you brought home for me ? " Then
the Sun (who was eldest) said, " I have brought nothing
home for you. I went out to enjoy myself with my friends
— not to fetch a dinner for my mother ! " And the Wind
said, " Neither have I brought anything home for you,
mother. You could hardly expect me to bring a collection
of good things for you, when I merely went out for my own
pleasure." But the Moon said, " Mother, fetch a plate, see
what I have brought you." And shaking her hands she
showered down such a choice dinner as never was seen
before.

Then the Star turned to the Sun and spoke thus, " Be-
cause you went out to amuse yourself with your friends, and
feasted and enjoyed yourself, without any thought of your
mother at home — you shall be cursed. Henceforth, your
rays shall ever be hot and scorching, and shall burn all
that they touch. And men shall hate you, and cover
their heads when you appear."

(And that is why the Sun is so hot to this day.)

Then she turned to the Wind and said, " You also who
forgot your mother in the midst of your selfish pleasures —
hear your doom. You shall always blow in the hot dry
weather, and shall parch and shrivel all living things. And
men shall detest and avoid you from this very time."

(And that is why the Wind in the hot weather is still so
disagreeable.)

But to the Moon she said, " Daughter, because you
remembered your mother, and kept for her a share in your
own enjoyment, from henceforth you shall be ever cool, and

Hoiv the Sun, Moon, and Wind went out to Dinner. 1 7 1

calm, and bright. No noxious glare shall accompany your
pure rays, and men shall always call you ' blessed.' "

(And that is why the Moon's light is so soft, and cool^

and beautiful even to this day.)

m

SINGH RAJAH* AND THE CUNNING
LITTLE JACKALS.

Once upon a time, in a great jungle, there lived a great
Lion. He was Rajah of all the country round ; and every-
day he used to leave his den, in the deepest shadow of the
rocks, and roar with a loud, angry voice ; and when he
roared, the other animals in the jungle, who were all his
subjects, got very much frightened, and ran here and there ;
and Singh Rajah would pounce upon them, and kill them,
and gobble them up for his dinner.

This went on for a long, long time, until, at last, there
were no living creatures left in the jungle but two little
Jackals, — a Rajah f Jackal and a Ranee X Jackal — husband
and wife.

A very hard time of it the poor little Jackals had, running
* Lion King. + King. J Queen.

Singh Rajah and the Ornning Little Jackals. 173

this way and that to escape the terrible Singh Rajah ; and
every day the Httle Ranee Jackal would say to her husband,
" I am afraid he will catch us to-day, — do you hear how he
is roaring ? Oh dear ! Oh dear ! " And he would answer
her, " Never fear ; I will take care of you. Let us run on
a mile or two. Come, come, — quick, quick, quick." And
they would both run away as fast as they could.

After some time spent in this way, they found, however,
one fine day, that the Lion was so close upon them that
they could not escape. Then the little Ranee Jackal said,
" Husband, husband, I feel very frightened. The Singh
Rajah is so angry he will certainly kill us at once. What
can we do?" But he answered, " Cheer up; we can save
ourselves yet. Come, and I'll show you how we may
manage it."

So what did these cunning little Jackals do, but they went
to the great Lion's den ; and when he saw them coming, he
began to roar, and shake his mane, and he said, " You little
wretches, come and be eaten at once ! I have had no
dinner for three whole days, and all that time I have been
running over hill and dale to find you. Ro-a-ar! Ro-a-ar!
Come and be eaten, I say!" and he lashed his tail and
gnashed his teeth, and looked very terrible indeed. Then
the Jackal Rajah, creeping quite close up to him, said, " Oh,
great Singh Rajah, we all know you are our master, and we
would have come at your bidding long ago ; but indeed,
sir, there is a much bigger Rajah even than }-ou in this
jungle, and he tried to catch hold of us and eat us up, and
frightened us so much that we were obliged to run away."

" What do you mean ? " growled Singh Rajah. " There

174 Old Dcccan Days.

is no King in this jungle but me!" "Ah, Sire," answered
the Jackal, " in truth one would think so, for you are very
dreadful. Your very voice is death. But it is as we say,
for we, with our own eyes, have seen one with whom you
could not compete ; whose equal you can no more be, than
we are yours ; whose face is as flaming fire, his step as
thunder, and his power supreme." " It is impossible ! " in-
terrupted the old Lion ; " but show me this Rajah of whom
you speak so much, that I may destroy him instantly ! "

Then the little Jackals ran on before him until they
reached a great well, and, pointing down to his own re-
flection in the water, they said, " See, Sire, there lives the
terrible King of w^hom we spoke." When Singh Rajah
looked down the well he became very angry, for he thought
he saw another Lion there. He roared and shook his great
mane, and the shadow Lion shook his, and looked terribly
defiant. At last, beside himself with rage at the violence of
his opponent, Singh Rajah sprang down to kill him at once,
but no other Lion was there — only the treacherous reflec-
tion, and the sides of the well were so steep that he could
not get out again, to punish the two Jackals, who peeped
over the top. After struggling for some time in the deep
water, he sank to rise no more. And the little Jackals
threw stones down upon him from above, and danced
round and round the well, singing, " Ao ! Ao ! Ao ! Ao !
The King of the Forest is dead, is dead ! We have killed
the gTeat Lion who would have killed us ! Ao ! Ao ! Ao !
Ao ! Ring-a-ting— ding-a-ting ! Ring-a-ting— ding-a-ting !
Ao ! Ao ! Ao ! " *

* See Notes at the end.

THE JACKAL, THE BARBER, AND THE
BRAHMIN WHO HAD SEVEN DAUGHTERS.

A Barber and a Jackal once struck up a great friendship^
which might have continued to this day, had not the Jackal
been so clever that the Barber never felt quite on equal
terms with him, and suspected his friend of playing him
many tricks. But this he was not able to prove.

One day the Jackal said to the Barber, " It would be a
nice thing for us to have a garden of our own, in which we
might grow as many cucumbers, pumpkins, and melons as
we like. Why should we not buy one ?"

The Barber answered, " Very well ; here is money. Do
you go and buy us a garden." So the Jackal took the
Barber's money, and with it bought a fine garden, in which
were cucumbers, pumpkins, melons, figs, and many other
good fruits and vegetables. And he used to go there every
day, and feast to his heart's content. When, however, the
Barber said to him, " What is the garden like, which you
bought with the money I gave you?" he answered,

1/6 Old Dcccan Days.

" There are very fine plants in it, but there is no fruit
upon them ; when the fruit is ripe, I will let you know."
This reply satisfied the Barber, who inquired no further
at that time.

A little while aftenvards, the Barber again asked the
Jackal about the garden, saying, " I see you go down to
that garden every day ; is the fruit getting ripe ?" " Oh dear
no, not yet," answered the Jackal; "why, the plants are
only just coming into blossom."

But all this time there was a great deal of fruit in the
garden ; and the Jackal went there every day, and ate as
much as he could.

Again, a third time, when some weeks had passed, the
Barber said to him, " Is there no ripe fruit in our garden
yet?" "No," said the Jackal; "the blossoms have only
just fallen ; but the fruit is forming. In time we shall have
a fine show of melons and figs there."

Then the Barber began to think the Jackal was deceiving
him, and determined to see and judge for himself. So next
day, -^nthout saying anything about it, he followed him down
to the garden.

Now it happened that very day the Jackal had invited
all his friends to come and feast there. All the animals in
the neighbouring jungle had accepted the invitation ; there
they came trooping by hundreds and dozens, and were very
merry indeed — running here and there, and eating all the
melons, and cucumbers, and figs, and pumpkins in the
place.

The Barber peeped over the hedge, and saw the assem-
bled wild beasts, and his friend the Jackal entertaining

The Jackal, the Barber, and the Brahmin. 177

them — talking to this one, laughing with that, and eating
Avith all. The good man did not dare to attack the intru-
ders, as they were many and powerful. But he went home
at once, very angry, muttering to himself, " I'll be the death
of that young jackanapes ; he shall play no more pranks in
my garden." And, watching his opportunity, he returned
there, when the Jackal and all his friends had left, and tied
a long knife to the largest of the cucumbers that still re-
mained ; then he went home, and said nothing of what he
had seen.

Early next morning the Jackal thought to himself, " I'll
just run down to the garden and see if there are no cucum-
bers or melons left." So he went there, and picking out the
largest of the cucumbers, began to eat it. Quick as
thought the long knife, that was concealed by the cucum-
ber leaves, ran into him, cutting his muzzle, his neck, and
his side.

"Ah, that nasty Barber ! " he cried; "this must be his
doing !" And, instead of going home, he ran as fast as he
could, very far, far, away into the jungle, and stretching him-
self out on a great flat rock, prepared to die.

But he did not die. Only for three whole days the pain
in his neck and side was so great that he could not move ;
moreover, he felt very weak from loss of blood.

At the end of the third day he tried to get up ; but his
own blood had sealed him to the stone ! He endeavoured
to move it by his struggles, but could not succeed. " Oh
dear! oh dear!"' he murmured; "to think that I should
recover from my wound, only to die such a horrible death as
this ! Ah, me ! here is the punishment of dishonesty ! " And,

178 Chi Dcccan Days.

having said this, he began to weep. It chanced, however,
that the god of Rain heard his lamentations, and taking
pity on the unfortunate animal, he sent a kindly shower,
which, wetting the stone, effected his release.

No sooner was the Jackal set free than he began to think
what he could do to earn a livelihood — since he did not
dare return to the Barber's house. It was not long before a
feasible plan struck him : all around was the mud made by
the recent rain ; he placed a quantity of it in a small
chattee,* covered the top over carefully with leaves, (as
people do jars of fresh butter,) and took it into a neighbour-
ing village to sell.

At the door of one of the first houses to which he came,
stood a woman, to whom the Jackal said, " i\Iai,f here is
butter — beautiful fresh butter ! won't you buy some fresh
butter?" She answered, "Are you sure it is quite fresh ?
Let me see it." But he replied, " It is perfectly fresh ; but
if you open the chattee now, it will be all spoilt by the
time you want it. If you like to buy it, you may take it ; —
if not, I will sell it to some one else." The woman did
want some fresh butter, and the chattee the Jackal carried
on his head was carefully fastened up, as if what it contained
was of the best ; and she knew if she opened it, it might
spoil before her husband returned home ; besides, she
thought, if the Jackal had intended to deceive her, he would
have been more pressing in asking her to buy it. So she
said, " Ver}'' well, give me the chattee ; here is money for
you. You are sure it is the best butter?" " It is the best

* Jar. t Woman or mother.

iJic Jackal, the Barber, and tJie BraJunin. 179

of its kind," answered the Jackal ; " only be sure you put it
in some cool place, and don't open it till it is wanted." And
taking the money, he ran away.

A short time afterwards the woman discovered how she
had been cheated, and was very angry ; but the Jackal was
by that time far away, out of reach of punishment.

When his money was spent, the Jackal felt puzzled as to
how to get a living, since no one would give him food, and
he could buy none. Fortunately for him, just then, one of
the bullocks belonging to the village died. The Jackal
found it lying dead by the road side, and he began to eat it,
and ate, and ate, and ate so much, that at last he had got
too far into the animal's body to be seen by passers-by.
Now, the weather was hot and dry. Whilst the Jackal was
in it, the bullock's skin crinkled up so tightly with the heat,
that it became too hard for him to bite through, and so he
could not get out again.

The Mahars * of the village all came out to bury the dead
bullock. The Jackal who was inside it, feared that if they
caught him, they would kill him — and that if they did not
discover him, he would be buried alive — so on their ap-
proach he called out, *' People, people, take care how you
touch me, for I am a great saint." The poor people were
very much frightened when they heard the dead bullock
talking, and thought that some mighty spirit must indeed
possess it.| "Who are you, sir, and what do you want?"
they cried. " I," answered the Jackal, " am a very holy
saint. I am also the god of your village, and I am very

* The lowest caste, employed as scavengers in every village.
+ See Notes at the end.

N 2

i8o Old Dcccan Days.

angr}' with you because you never worship me, nor bring me
offerings." " O my Lord," tliey cried ; " what offerings will
please you ? Tell us only, and we will bring you whatever
you like." " Good," he replied. " Then you must fetch
here plenty of rice, plenty of fiowers, and a nice fat chicken
— place them as an offering beside me, and pour a great
deal of water over them, as you do at your most solemn
feasts, and then I will forgive you your sins." The Mahars
did as they were commanded. They placed some rice and
flowers, and the best chicken they could procure, beside the
bullock; and poured water over it, and the offering. Then
no' sooner did the dry hard bullock's skin get wetted, than
it split in many places, and to the surprise of all his wor-
shippers, the Jackal jumped out, seized the chicken in his
mouth, and ran away with it through the midst of them, into
the jungle. The Mahars ran after him over hedges and
ditches for many, many miles, but he got away in spite of
them all.

On, on, he ran — on, on, for a verj' long way, until at last he
came to a place where a little kid lived under a little sicakai*
tree. All her relations and friends were away, and when
she saw him coming she thought to herself, " Unless I
frighten this Jackal he will eat me." So she ran as hard as
she could up against the sicakai tree, which made all the
branches shake, and the leaves go rustle, rustle, rustle. And
when the Jackal heard the rustling noise he got frightened,
and thought it was all the little kid's friends coming to
help her. And she called out to him, "Run away,
Jackal, run away. Thousands and thousands of Jackals
* Acacia concinna.

The Jackal, the Barber, and the BraJunin. i8i

have run away at that sound — run away for your hfe."
And the Jackal was so frightened that he ran away. So,
he who had deceived so many, was outwitted by a simple
little kid !

After this the Jackal found his way back to his own
village, where the Barber lived, and there for some time he
used to prowl round the houses ever}' night, and live upon
any bones he could find. The villagers did not like his
coming, but did not know how to catch him, until one night
his old friend the Barber (who had never forgiven him for
stealing the fruit from the garden) caught him in a great net,
having before made many unsuccessful attempts to do so.
"Aha!" cried the Barber; "I've got you at last, my
friend. You did not escape death from the cucumber-knife
for nothing ! you won't get away this time. Here, wife !
wife ! see what a prize I've got." The Barber's wife came
running to the door ; and the Barber gave her the Jackal,
(after he had tied all his four legs firmly together with a
strong rope), and said to her, " Take this animal into the
house, and be sure you don't let him escape, while I fetch
a knife to kill him with." The Barber's wife did as she was
bid, and taking the Jackal into the house laid him down on
the floor. But no sooner had the Barber gone, than the
Jackal said to her, " Ah, good woman, your husband will
return directly and put me to death. For the love of
heaven, loosen the rope round my feet before he comes, for
one minute only, and let me drink a little water from that
puddle by the door, for my throat is parched with thirst."
"No, no, friend Jackal," answered the Barber's wife. "I
know well enough what you'll do. No sooner shall I have

1 82 Old Dcccan Days.

untied your feet, than you will run away, and when my
husband returns, and finds you are gone, he A\-ill beat
me."

" Indeed, indeed, I will not run away," he replied. "Ah,
kind mother, have pity on me — only for one little moment."
Then the Barber's wife thought, " Well, it is hard not to
grant the poor beast's last request — he will not live long
enough to have many more pleasures." So she untied the
Jackal's legs, and held him by a rope, that he might drink
from the puddle. But quick as possible, he gave a jump,
and a twist, and a pull, and jerking the rope out of her hand,
escaped once more into the jungle.

For some time he roamed up and down, living on what
he could get in this village or that, until he had wandered
very far away from the country where the Barber lived. At
last one day, by chance, he passed a certain cottage, in
which there dwelt a very poor Brahmin, who had seven
daughters.

As the Jackal passed by, the Brahmin was saying to him-
self, " O dear me, what can I do for my seven daughters !
I shall have to support them all my life, for they are much
too poor ever to get married. If a dog or a jackal were to
offer to take one off my hands he should have her." Next
day the Jackal called on the Brahmin, and said to him,
" You said yesterday if a jackal or a dog were to offer to
marry one of your daughters you would let him have her ;
will you, therefore, accept me as a son-in-law ? "

The poor Brahmin felt veiy much embarrassed, but it
was certain he had said the v/ords, and therefore he felt in
honour bound not to retract, although he had little

The Jackal, the Barber, and the BraJiniin. 183

dreamed of ever being placed in such a predicament.
Just at that moment all the seven daughters began crying
for bread, and the father had no bread to give them. Ob-
serving this, the Jackal continued, '• Let me marry one of
your seven daughters, and I will take care of her. It will
at least leave you one less to provide for, and I will see that
she never needs food." Then the Brahmin's heart was
softened, and he gave the Jackal his eldest daughter in
marriage, and the Jackal took her home to his den in the
high rocks.

Now you will say there never was a Jackal so clever as this.
Very true ; for this was not a common Jackal, or he could
never have done all that I have told you. This Jackal was,
in fact, a great Rajah in disguise, who, to amuse himself,
took the form of a Jackal ; for he was a great Magician as
well as a great Prince.

The den to v.-hich he took the Brahmin's daughter looked
like quite a common hole in the rocks on the outside, but
inside it was a splendid palace ; adorned with silver, and
gold, and ivory, and precious stones. But even his own wife
did not know that he was not always a Jackal, for the Rajah
never took his human form except every morning very
early, when he used to take off the jackal skin and wash
it and brush it, and put it on again.

After he and his wife, the Brahmin's daughter, had
lived up in their home in the rocks happily for some time ;
who should the Jackal see one day, but his father-in-law, the
old Brahmin, climbing up the hill to come and pay him a
visit. The Jackal was vexed to see the Brahmin, for he
knew he was very poor, and thought he had most likely

1 84 Old Dcccan Days.

come to beg — and so it was. The Brahmin said to him,
" Son-in-law, let me come into your cave and rest a little
while. I want to ask you to help me, for I am \'ery poor,
'' ^ and much in need of help."

(f^ " Don't go into my cave," said the Jackal, " it is but a

poor hole, not fit for you to enter," (for he did not wish his
father-in-law to see his fine palace ;) "but I will call my wife,
that you may see I have not eaten her up, and she and you
and I will talk over the matter, and see what we can do for
you."

So the Brahmin, the Brahmin's daughter, and the Jackal
all sat down on the hill-side together, and the Brahmin said,
" I don't know what to do to get food for myself, my wife,
and m.y six daughters. Son-in-law Jackal, cannot you
help me ? " " It is a difficult business," answered the
Jackal, " but I'll do what I can for you ; " and he ran to
his cave and fetched a large melon, and gave it to the
Brahmin, saying, " Father-in-law, you must take this melon,
and plant it in your garden, and wlien it grows up, sell all
the fruit you find upon it, and that will bring you in some
money." So the Brahmin took the melon home with him,
and planted it in his garden.

By next day the melon that the jackal had given him
had grown up in the Brahmin's garden into a fine plant,
covered with hundreds of beautiful ripe melons. The
Brahmin, his wife, and family were overjoyed at the
sight. And all the neighbours were astonished, and said,
' How fast that fine melon plant has grown in the Brahmin's
garden."

Now it chanced that a woman who lived in a house close

The Jackal, the Barber, and the Brahmin. 185

by, wanted some melons, and seeing what ^fine ones these
were, she went down at once to the Brahmin's house, and
bought two or three from the Brahmin's wife. She took
them home with her, and cut them open — but then, lo and
behold ! marvel of marvels ! what a wonderful sight asto-
nished her ! Instead of the thick white pulp she expected
to see, the whole of the inside of the melon was composed
of diamonds, rubies, and emeralds ; and all the seeds were
enormous pearls. She immediately locked her door, and
taking with her all the money she had, ran back to the
Brahmin's wife, and said to her, " Those were very good
melons you sold me, I like them so much that I will buy
all the others on your melon plant." And giving her the
money, she took home all the rest of the melons. Now this
cunning woman told none of her friends of the treasure she
had found, and the poor stupid Brahmin and his family did
not know what they had lost, for they had never thought of
opening any of the melons ; so, that for all the precious
stones they sold, they only got a few pice,* which was very
hard. Next day when they looked out of the window, the
melon plant was again covered with fine ripe melons, and
again the woman who had bought those which had grown
the day before, came and bought them all. And this went
on for several days. There were so many melons, and all
the melons were so full of precious stones, that the woman
who bought them, had enough to fill the whole of one
room in her house with diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and
pearls.

At last, however, the wonderful melon plant began to

* A pice is equal to about \d.

1 86 Old Dcccan Days.

^vither, and when the woman came to buy melons one
morning, the Brahmin's wife was obhged to say to her in a
sad voice, " Alas, there are no more melons on our melon
plant." And the woman went back to her own house very
much disappointed.

That day the Brahmin and his wife and children had no
money in the house to buy food with, and they all felt very
unhappy to think that the fine melon plant had withered.
But the Brahmin's youngest daughter, who v.-as a clever girl,
thought, " Though there are no mere melons fit to sell on
our melon plant, perhaps I may be able to find one or tv.'o
shrivelled ones, which, if cooked, will give us something for
dinner." So she went out to look, and searching carefully
amongst the thick leaves, found tvvo or three v/ithered
little melons still remaining. These she took into the house
and began cutting them up to cook, v.'hen, more wonderful
than wonderful ! within each little melon she found a
number of small emeralds, rubies, diamonds, and pearls !
The girl called her father, and mother, and her five sisters,
crying, " See what I have found. See these precious stones
and pearls. I dare say inside all the melons we sold there
were as good, or better than these. No wonder that woman
v.-as so anxious to buy them all. See father — see mother —
see sisters ! 1 "

Then they were all overjoyed to see the treasure ; but the
Brahmin said, " What a pity we have lost all the benefit of
my son-in-law the Jackal's good gift, by not knowing its
worth. I v/ill go at once to that woman, and try and make
her give us back the melons she took."

So he went to the melon buyer's house, and said to her^

The jackal, the Barber, and the Brahmin. 187

" Give me back the melons you took from me, who did not
know their worth." She answered, " I don't know what you
mean." He rephed, "You were very deceitful ; you bought
melons full of precious stones, from us poor people, who did
not know what they were worth, and you only paid for them
the price of common melons :— give me some of them back,
I pray you." But she said, "I bought common melons from
your wife, and made them all into common soup long ago ;
therefore, talk no further nonsense about jewels, but go
about your business." And she turned him out of the
house. Yet all this time she had a whole room full of the
emeralds, diamonds, rubies, and pearls, that she had found
in the melons the Brahmin's wife had sold her.

The Brahmin returned home, and said to his wife, " I
cannot make that woman give me back any of the melons
you sold her ; but give me the precious stones our daughter
has just found, and I will sell them to a jeweller, and bring
home some money." So he went to the tov.-n, and took the
precious stones to a jeweller, and said to him, " What will
you give me for these?" But no sooner did the jeweller
see them, than he said, " How could such a poor man as
you become possessed of such precious stones ? You
must have stolen them : you are a thief! You have
stolen these from my shop, and now come to sell them
to me !"

" No, no, sir ; indeed no, sir," cried the Brahmin. " Thief,
thief!" shouted the jeweller. "In truth, no, sir," said the
Brahmin ; " my son-in-law, the Jackal, gave me a melon
plant ; and in one of the melons I found these jewels." " I
don't believe a word you say," screamed the jeweller (and

1 88' Old Dcccan Days,

he began beating the Brahmin, whom he held by the arm) ;
"give up those jewels which you have stolen from my shop."
" No, I won't," roared the Brahmin ; " oh ! oh-o ! oh-o-o !
don't beat me so ; I didn't steal them." But the jeweller
was determined to get the jewels ; so he beat the Brahmin,
and called the police, who came running up to his assist-
ance, and shouted till a great crowd of people had collected
round his shop. Then he said to the Brahmin, " Give me
up the jewels you stole from me, or I'll give you to the
police, and you shall be put in gaol." The Brahmin tried to
tell his stoiy about his son-in-law, the Jackal, but of course
nobody believed him ; and he was obliged to give the pre-
cious stones to the jeweller, in order to escape the police,
and to run home as fast as he could. And every one
thought the jeweller was very kind, to let him off so
easily.

All his family were very unhappy when they heard what
had befallen him. But his wife said, " You had better go
again to our son-in-law, the Jackal, and see what he can do
for us." So next day the Brahmin climbed the hill again,
as he had done before, and went to call upon the Jackal.
When the Jackal saw him coming, he was not very well
pleased. So he went to meet him, and said, "Father-in-law,
I did not expect to see you again so soon !" "I merely
came to see how you were," answered the Brahmin, " and
to tell you how poor we are ; and how glad we should be of
any help you can give us." " What have you done with all
the melons I gave you?" asked the Jackal. "Ah," an-
swered the Brahmin, " that is a sad story ! " And beginning
at the beginning, he related how they had sold almost all

i:

The Jackal, the Barber, and the Brahiniii. 189

the melons, without knowing their value ; and how the few
precious stones they had found, had been taken from him
by the jeweller. When the Jackal heard this, he laughed
very much, and said, "I see it is no use giving such unfor-
tunate people as you, gold or jewels, for they will only bring
you into trouble. Come, I'll give you a more useful pre-
sent." So, running into his cave, he fetched thence a small
chattee,'"' and gave it to the Brahmin, saying, " Take this
chattee ; whenever you or any of the family are hungry, ^-'^^n^ A.AtA/y^
you will always find in it as good a dinner as this." And ^vJiAi '
putting his paw into the chattee, he extracted thence currie, 0'^^'\K»
and rice, pilau,f and all sorts of good things, enough to
feast a hundred men ; and the more he took out of the
chattee, the more remained inside.

When the Brahmin saw the chattee, and smelt the good
dinner, his eyes glistened for joy; and he embraced the
Jackal, saying, " Dear son-in-law, you are the only support
of our house." And he took his new present carefully home
with him.

After this, for some time the whole family led a very
happy life, for they never wanted good food ; every day the
Brahmin, his wife, and his six daughters, found inside the
chattee, a most delicious dinner ; and every day when they

had dined they placed it on a shelf, to find it replenished
when next it was needed.

But it happened that hard by there lived another Brahmin,

a very great man, who was much in the Rajah's confidence ;

and this man smelt daily the smell of a very nice dinner,

* Jar.
t Meat cooked with almonds, raisins, and spice.

190 Old Dcccan Days.

Avhich puzzled him a good deal. The rich Bralirain thought
it smelt even nicer than his own dinner, for which he paid
so much; and yet it seemed to come from the poor Brahmin's
little cottage. So one day he determined to find out all
about it ; and, going to call on his neighbour, he said to
him, " Every day, at about twelve o'clock, I smell such a
very nice dinner — much nicer than my own \ and it seems
to come from your house. You must live on very good
things I think, although you seem so poor."

Then, in the pride of his heart, the poor Brahmin invited
his rich neighbour to come and dine with him ; and lifting
the magic chattee down from the shelf, took out of it such
delicate fare as the other had never before tasted. And in
an evil hour he proceeded to tell his friend of the wondrous
properties of the chattee, which his son-in-law the Jackal had
given him ; and how it never was empty ! No sooner had
the great man learnt all this, than he went to the Rajah, and
said to him, " There is a poor Brahmin in the town who
possesses a wonderful chattee, which is always filled with the
most delicious dinner. I should not feel authorised to
deprive him of it ; but if it pleased your Highness to take it
from him he could not complain." The Rajah hearing this,
determined to see and taste for himself. So he said, " I
should very much like to see this chattee with my own eyes."
And he accompanied the rich Brahmin to the poor
Brahmin's house. The poor Brahmin was overjoyed at
being noticed by the Rajah himself, and gladly exhibited the
various excellences of the chattee ; but no sooner did the
Rajah taste the dinner it contained, than he ordered his
guards to seize it, and take it away to the palace, in spite of

The Jackal, iJie Barber, and the BraJnnin. 191

the Brahmin's tears and protestations ; thus, for a second
time, he lost the benefit of his son-indaw's gift.

When the Rajah had gone, the Brahmin said to his wife,
" There is nothing to be done but to go again to the Jackal,
and see if he can help us." " If you don't take care, you'll
put him out of all patience at last," answered she. " I
can't think why you need have gone talking about our
chat tee."

When the Jackal heard the Brahmin's story he became
very cross, and said, " What a stupid old man you were to
say anything about the chattee ; but see, here is another,
which may aid you to get back the first. Take care of it,
for this is the last time I will help you." And he gave the
Brahmin a chattee, in which v/as a stout stick tied to a very
strong rope. " Take this," he said, " into the presence of
those who deprived you of my other gifts, and when you
open the chattee, command the stick to beat them ; this it
will do so effectually, that they will gladly return you what
you have lost j only take care not to open the chattee when
you are alone, or the stick that is in it will punish your
rashness."

The Brahmin thanked his son-in-law, and took away the
chattee ; but he found it hard to believe all that had been
said. So, going through the jungle on his way home, he
uncovered it just to peep in and see if the stick were really
there. No sooner had he done this, than out jumped the
rope, out jumped the stick ; the rope seized him and bound
him to a tree, and the stick beat him, and beat him, and
beat him, until he was nearly killed. " Oh dear ! Oh
dear ! " screamed the Brahmin, " what an unlucky man I

192 Old Dcccan Days.

am ! Oh dear ! oh clear ! stop, please stop ! good stick,
stop ! -^-hat a very good stick this is 1 " But the stick would
not stop, but beat him so much that he could hardly crawl
home again.

Then the Brahmin put the rope and stick back again
into the chattee, and sent to his rich neighbour, and to the
Rajah, and said to them, " I have a new chattee, much
better than the old one ; do come and see what a fine one
it is." And the rich Brahmin and the Rajah thought,
"This is something good; doubtless there is a choice dinner
in this chattee also, and we will take it from this foolish
man as we did the other." So they went down to meet
the Brahmin in the jungle, taking with them all their fol-
lowers and attendants. Then the Brahmin uncovered his
chattee, saying, " Beat, stick, beat — beat them every one ! "
and the stick jumped out, and the rope jumped out, and
the rope caught hold of the Rajah and the rich Brahmin,
and all their attendants, and tied them fast to the trees
that grew around, and the stick ran from one to another,
beating, beating, beating, beating the Rajah, beating his
courtiers, beating the rich Brahmin, beating his attendants,
and beating all their followers; while the poor Brahmin
cried with all his might, " Give me back my Chattee — give
me back my Chattee ! "

At this the Rajah and his people were ver}- much
frightened, and thought they were going to be killed. And the
Rajah said to the Brahmin, "Take away your'stick, only take
away your stick, and you shall have back your chattee." So
the Brahmin put the stick and rope back into the chattee,
and the Rajah returned him the dinner-making chattee.

The jackal, the Barber, and the BraJiuiin. 193

And all the people felt very much afraid of the Brahmin, and
re'spected him very much.

Then he took the chattee containing the rope and stick to
the house of the woman who had bought the melons, and
the rope caught her, and the stick beat her; and the Brahmin
cried, " Return me those melons, return me those melons."
And the woman said, " Only make your stick stop beating
me, and you shall have back all the melons." So he ordered
the stick back into the chattee, and she returned him them
forthwith — a whole room-full of melons full of diamonds,
pearls, emeralds, and rubies.

The Brahmin took them home to his wife, and going into
the town, with the help of his good stick, forced the jeweller
who had deprived him of the little emeralds, rubies, diamonds,
and pearls, he had taken to sell, to give them back to him
again, and having accomplished this, he returned to his
family; and from that time they all lived very happily.
Then, one day the Jackal's wife invited her six sisters to
come and pay her a visit. Now the youngest sister was more
clever than any of the others; and it happened that, very
early in the morning, she saw her brother-in-law the Jackal
take off the jackal skin, and wash it, and brush it, and hang
it up to dry ; and when he had taken off the jackal-skin coat,
he looked the handsomest Prince that ever was seen. Then
his little sister-in-law ran, quickly and quietly, and stole
away the jackal-skin coat, and threw it on the fire and
burnt it. And she awoke her sister, and said, " Sister, sister,
your husband is no longer a jackal ; see, that is he standing
by the door." So the Jackal Rajah's wife ran to the door to
meet her husband, and because the jackal's skin was burnt,

o

194

Old Dcccan Days.

and he could wear it no longer, he continued to be a man
for the rest of his life, and gave up playing all jackal-like
pranks ; and he and his -wife, and his father and mother
and sisters-in-law lived very happily all the rest of their
days.

XIII.

TIT FOR TAT.

There once lived a Camel and a Jackal who were great
friends. One day the Jackal said to the Camel, " I know
that there is a fine field of sugar-cane on the other side of
the river. If you will take me across, I'll show you the place.
This plan will suit me as well as you. You will enjoy
eating the sugar-cane, and I am sure to find many crabs,
bones, and bits of fish by the river side, on which to make a
good dinner."

The Camel consented, and swam across the river, taking
the Jackal, who could not swim, on his back. When they
reached the other side, the Camel went to eat the sugar-
cane, and the Jackal ran up and down the river bank
devouring all the crabs, bits of fish, and bones he could
find.

But being so much smaller an animal, he had made an
excellent meal before the Camel had eaten more than two
or three mouthfuls; and no sooner had he finished his

O 2

196 Old Dcccan Days.

dinner, than he ran round and round the sugar-cane field,
yelping and howling with all his might.

The villagers heard him, and thought, " There is a Jackal
among the sugar-canes, he will be scratching holes in the
ground, and spoiling the roots of the plants." And they all
went down to the place to drive him away. But when they
got there, they found to their surprise not only a Jackal, but
a Camel Avho was eating the sugar-canes ! This made them
very angry, and they caught the poor Camel, and drove him
from the field and beat him, and beat him, until he was
nearly dead.

When they had gone, the Jackal said to the Camel, " We
had better go home." And the Camel said, " \txy well,
then jump upon my back as you did before."

So the Jackal jumped upon the Camel's back, and the
Camel began to recross the river. When they had got well
into the water, the Camel said, " This is a pretty way in
which you have treated me, friend Jackal. No sooner had
you finished your own dinner, than you must go yelping
about the place loud enough to arouse the whole village,
and bring all the villagers down to beat me black and blue,
and turn me out of the field before I had eaten two mouth-
fuls ! What in the world did you make such a noise for ? "

" I don't know," said the Jackal. " It is a custom I have.
I always like to sing a little after dinner."

The Camel waded on through the river. The water
reached up to his knees — then above them — up, up, up,
higher and higher, until he was obliged to swim. Then
turning to the Jackal, he said, " I feel very anxious to roll."
" Oh, pray don't ; why do you wish to do so 1 " asked the

Tit for Tat.

197

Jackal. " I don't know," answered the Camel. " It is a
custom I have. I always like to have a little roll after
dinner." So saying, he rolled over in the water, shaking the
Jackal off as he did so. And the Jackal was drowned, but
the Camel swam safely ashore.

XIV.

THE BRAHMIN, THE TIGER, AND THE
SIX JUDGES.

Once upon a time a Brahmin, who was walking along the
road, came upon an iron cage, in which a great Tiger had
been shut up by the villagers who caught him.

As the Brahmin passed by, the Tiger called out and said
to him, " Brother Brahmin, brother Brahmin, have pity on
me, and let me out of this cage for one minute only, to drink
a little water, for I am dy'wg of thirst." The Brahmin
answered, " No, I will not ; for if I let you out of the cage
you will eat me."

" Oh, father of mercy," answered the Tiger, " in truth that
will I not. I will never be so ungrateful ; only let me out,
that I may drink some water and return." Then the Brahmin
took pity on him, and opened the cage door ; but no sooner
had he done so, than the Tiger, jumping out, said, " Now, I
will eat you first, and drink the water afterwards." But the
Brahmin said, " Only do not kill me hastily. Let us first ask

TJic BraJimin, the Tiger, and the Six Judges. 199

the opinion of six, and if all of them say it is just and fair
that you should put me to death, then I am willing to die."
" Very well," answered the Tiger, " it shall be as you say ; we
will first ask the opinion of six."

So the Brahmin and the Tiger walked on till they came to
a Banyan tree ; and the Brahmin said to it, " Banyan tree.
Banyan tree, hear and give judgment." " On what must I
give judgment ? " asked the Banyan tree. " This Tiger," said
the Brahmin, " begged me to let him out of his cage to drink
a little water, and he promised not to hurt me if I did so ;
but now that I have let him out, he wishes to eat me. Is it
just that he should do so, or no?"

The Banyan tree answered, " Men often come to take
shelter in the cool shade under my boughs, from the
scorching rays of the sun ; but when they have rested, they
cut and break my pretty branches, and wantonly scatter my
leaves. Let the Tiger eat the man, for men are an ungrate-
ful race."

At these words the Tiger would have instantly killed the
Brahmin ; but the Brahmin said, " Tiger, Tiger, you must
not kill me yet, for you promised that we should first hear
the judgment of six." " Very well," said the Tiger, and they
went on their way. After a little while they met a Camel.
" Sir Camel, Sir Camel," cried the Brahmin, " hear and give
judgment." " On what shall I give judgment?" asked the
Camel. And the Brahmin related how the Tiger had begged
him to open the cage door, and promised not to eat him if
he did so ; and how he had afterwards determined to break
his word, and asked if that were just or not ? The Camel
replied, " When I was young and strong, and could do much

200 Old Dcccan Days.

work, my master took care of me and gave me good food ;
but now that I am old, and have lost all my strength in his
service, he overloads me, and starves me, and beats me
without mercy. Let the Tiger eat the man, for men are an
unjust and cruel race."

The Tiger would then have killed the Crahmin, but the
latter said, " Stop, Tiger, for we must first hear the judgment
of six."

So they both went again on their way. At a little distance
they found a Bullock lying by the roadside. The Brahmin
said to him, " Brother Bullock, brother Bullock, hear and give
judgment." " On what must I give judgment?" asked the
Bullock. The Brahmin answered, " I found this Tiger in a
cage, and he prayed me to open the door and let him out
to drink a little water, and promised not to kill me if I did
so ; but when I had let him out he resolved to put me to
death. Is it fair he should do so or not ? " The Bullock
said, " When I was able to work, my master fed me well and
tended me carefuily, but now I am old he has forgotten all
I did for him, and left me by the roadside to die. Let the
Tiger eat the man, for men have no pity."

Three out of the six had given judgment against the
Brahmin, but still he did not lose all hope, and determined
to ask the other three.

They next met an Eagle flying through the air, to whom
the Brahmin cried, " O, Eagle, great Eagle, hear and give
judgment." " On what must I give judgment ? " asked the
Eagle. The Brahmin stated the case, but the Eagle an-
swered, '' Whenever men see me they try to shoot me ;
they climb the rocks and steal away my little ones. Let

The Brahmin, the Tiger, and tJie Six Judges. 201

the Tiger eat the man, for men are the persecutors of the
earth."

Then the Tiger began to roar, and said, " The judgment
of all is against you,,0 Brahmin." But the Brahmin an-
swered, " Stay yet a little longer, for two others must first be
asked." After this they saw an Alligator, and the Brahmin
related the matter to him, hoping for a more favourable
verdict. But the Alligator said, " Whenever I put my nose
out of the water, men torment me, and try to kill me. Let
the Tiger eat the man, for as long as men live we shall
have no rest."

The Brahmin gave himself up as lost ; but again he prayed
the Tiger to have patience, and let him ask the opinion of the
sixth judge. Now the sixth was a Jackal. The Brahmin told
his story, and said to him, " INIama* Jackal, Mama Jackal,
say what is your judgment?" The Jackal answered, " It is
impossible for me to decide who is in the right and who in
the wrong, unless I see the exact position in which you
were when the dispute began. Show me the place." So
the Brahmin and the Tiger returned to the place where
they first met, and the Jackal went with them. When they
got there, the Jackal said, " Now, Brahmin, show me exactly
where you stood." " Here," said the Brahmin, standing by
the iron tiger-cage. "Exactly there, was it?" asked the
Jackal. " E.xactly here," replied the Brahmin. " Where
was the Tiger, then ?" asked the Jackal. "In the cage,"
answered the Tiger. " How do you mean ?" said the Jackal,
" how were you within the cage ; which way were you look-
ing?" " Why, I stood so," said the Tiger, jumping into the
* Uncle.

202

Old Dcccan Days.

cage, "and my head was on this side." " Very good," said
thejackal, " but I cannot judge without understanding the
Avhole matter exactly. Was the cage door open, or shut?"
" Shut, and bolted," said the Brahmin. " Then shut, and
bolt it," said the Jackal.

When the Brahmin had done this, the Jackal said, " Oh,
you wicked and ungrateful Tiger ! — when the good Brahmin
opened your cage door, is to eat him the only return you
would make ? Stay there, then, for the rest of your days,
for no one will ever let you out again. Proceed on your
journey, friend Brahmin. Your road lies that way, and
mine this."

So saying, the Jackal ran off in one direction, and the
Brahmin went rejoicing on his way in the other.

vrt^

XV.

THE SELFISH SPARROW AND THE
HOUSELESS CROWS.

A Sparrow once built a nice little house for herself^
and lined it well with wool, and protected it with sticks,
so that it equally resisted the summer sun and the winter
rains. A Crow, who lived close by, had also built a
house, but it was not such a good one, being only made
of a few sticks laid one above another on the top of a
prickly pear hedge. The consequence was, that one day
when there was an unusually heavy shower, the Crow's
nest was washed awa)^, while the Sparrow's was not at all
injured.

In this extremity the Crow and her mate went to the
Sparrow, and said, " Sparrow, Sparrow, have pity on us,
and give us shelter, for the wind blows, and the rain beats,
and the prickly pear hedge thorns stick into our eyes."
But the Sparrow answered, *' I'm cooking the dinner, I
cannot let you in now, come again presently." In a little
while the Crows returned, and said, "Sparrow, Sparrow,

204 Old Dcccan Days.

have pity on us, and give us shelter, for the wind blows, and
the rain beats, and the prickly pear hedge thorns stick into
our eyes." The Sparrow answered, "I'm eating my
dinner, I cannot let you in now, come again presently."
The Crows flew away, but in a little while returned, and
cried once more, " Sparrow, Sparrow, have pity on us, and
give us shelter, for the wind blows, and the rain beats, and
the prickly pear hedge thorns stick into our eyes." The
Sparrow replied, " I'm washing the dishes, I cannot let you
in now, come again presently." The Crows waited awhile
and then called out, " Sparrow, Sparrow, have pity on us,
and give us slielter, for tlie wind blows, and the rain beats,
-and the prickly pear hedge thorns stick into our eyes."
But the Sparrow would not let them in, she only answered,
" I'm sweeping the floor, I cannot let you in now, come
-again presently." Next time the Crows came and cried,
" Sparrow, Sparrow, have pity on us and give us shelter, for
the wind blows, and the rain beats, and the prickly pear
hedge thorns stick into our eyes" — she answered, " I'm
making the beds, I cannot let you in now, come again
presently." So, on one pretence or another, she refused to
help the poor birds. At last, when she and her children
had had their dinner, and she had prepared and put away
the dinner for next day, and had put all the children to bed
and gone to bed herself, she cried to the Crows, " You may
come in now, and take shelter for the night." The Crows
came in, but they were very vexed at having been kept out
so long in the wind and the rain, and when the Sparrow and
all her family were asleep, the one said to the other, " This
selfish Sparrow had no pity on us, she gave us no dinner,

TJlc SclfisJi Sparrozv and the Houseless Croivs. 205

and would not let us in, till she and all her children were
comfortably in bed ; let us punish her." So the two Crows
took all the nice dinner the Sparrow had prepared for
herself and her children to eat next day, and flew away
with it.

Y^'

>-^

^

XVI.

THE VALIANT CHATTEE-MAKER.

Once upon a time, in a violent storm of thunder, light-
ning, wind, and rain, a Tiger crept for shelter close to the
wall of an old woman's hut. This old woman was very-
poor, and her hut was but a tumble-down place, through the
roof of which the rain came drip, drip, drip, on more sides
than one. This troubled her much, and she went running
about from side to side, dragging first one thing and then
another out of the way of the leaky places in the roof, and
as she did so, she kept saying to herself, " Oh, dear ! oh,
dear ! how tiresome this is. I'm sure the roof will come
down ! If an elephant, or a lion, or a tiger were to walk in,
he wouldn't frighten me half as much as this perpetual
dripping." And then she would begin dragging the bed
and all the other things in the room about again, to get
them out of the way of the wet. The Tiger, who was
crouching down just outside, heard all that she said, and
thought to himself, " This old woman says she would not
be afraid of an elephant, or a lion, or a tiger, but that this
perpetual dripping frightens her more than all. AVhat can
this 'perpetual dripping' be? it must be something very
dreadful." And, hearing her immediately afterwards drag-
ging all the things about the room again, he said to himself.

The Valiant Chattcc-BIakcr. 207

■" What a terrible noise ! Surely that must be the '■perpetual
dripping: "

At this moment a Chattee-maker,* who was in search of
his donkey, which had strayed away, came down the road.
The night being ver}^ cold, he had, truth to say, taken a little
more toddyt than was good for him, and seeing, by the light
of a flash of lightning, a large animal lying down close to
the old woman's hut, he mistook it for the donkey he was
looking for. So, running up to the Tiger, he seized hold of
it by one ear, and commenced beating, kicking, and abusing
it, with all his might and main. " You wretched creature,"
he cried, "is this the way you serve me, obliging me to
come out and look for you in such pouring rain, and on
such a dark night as this ? Get up instantly, or I'll break
every bone in your body," so he went on scolding and
thumping the Tiger with his utmost power, for he had
worked himself up into a terrible rage. The Tiger did not
know what to make of it all, but he began to feel quite
frightened, and said to himself, "Why, this must be the
' perpetual dripping ; ' no wonder the old woman said she
was more afraid of it than of an elephant, a lion, or a tiger,
for it gives most dreadfully hard blows."

The Chattee-maker, having made the Tiger get up, got on
his back, and forced him to carry him hom.e, kicking and
beating him the whole way, for all this time he fancied he
was on his donkey, and then he tied his fore feet and his
head firmly together, and fastened him to a post in front of
his house, and when he had done this he went to bed.

Next morning, when the Chattee-maker's wife got up and

* Potter. t An intoxicating drink made of palm juice.

2o8 Old Da-can Days.

looked out of window, v.hat did she see but a great big
Tiger tied up in front of their house, to the post to which
they usually fastened the donkey ; she was very much
surprised, and running to licr husband, awoke him, saying,
" Do you know what animal you fetched home last night ? "
" Yes, the donkey, to be sure," he answered. " Come and
see," said she, and she showed him the great Tiger tied to
the post. The Chattee-maker at this, was no less astonished
than his wife, and felt himself all over to find if the Tiger
had not wounded him. But, no ! there he was, safe and
sound, and there was the Tiger tied to the post, just as he
had fastened it up the night before.

News of the Chattee-maker's exploit soon spread through
the village, and all the people came to see him and hear
him tell how he had caught the Tiger and tied it to the post :
and this they thought so wonderful, that they sent a depu-
tation to the Rajah,* with a letter to tell him how a man of
their village had, alone and unarmed, caught a great Tiger,
and tied it to a post.

When the Rajah read the letter he also was much
surprised, and determined to go in person and see this aston-
ishing sight. So he sent for his horses and carriages, his
lords and attendants, and they all set off together to look at
the Chattee-maker and the Tiger he had caught.

Now the Tiger was a ^■ery large one, and had long been
the terror of all the country round, which made the whole
matter still more extraordinaiy ; and all this being repre-
sented to the Rajah, he determined to confer all possible
honour on the valiant Chattee-maker. So he gave him
* King.

The Valiant Chattcc-Makcr. 209

houses and lands, and as much money as would fill a well,
made him a lord of his court, and conferred on him
command often thousand horse.

It came to pass, shortly after this, that a neighbouring
Rajah, who had long had a quarrel with this one, sent to
announce his intention of going instantly to war with him ;
and tidings were at the same time brought that the Rajah
who sent the challenge, had gathered a great army together
on the borders, and was prepared at a moment's notice to
invade the country.

In this dilemma no one knew what to do. The Rajah
sent for all his generals, and inquired of them which would
be willing to take command of his forces and oppose the
enemy ? They all replied that the country was so ill-
prepared for the emergency, and the case was apparently so
hopeless, that they would rather not take the responsibility
of the chief command. The Rajah knew not whom to
appoint in their stead. Then some of his people said to him,
" You have lately given command of ten thousand horse to
the valiant Chattee-maker who caught the Tiger, why not
make him Commander-in-Chief? A man who could catch a
Tiger and tie him to a post, must surely be more courageous
and clever than most." " Very well," said the Rajah, " I
will make him Commander-in-Chief." So he sent for the
Chattee-maker and said to him, " In your hands I place all
the power of the kingdom ; you must put our enemies to
flight for us." " So be it," answered the Chattee-maker,
" but, before I lead the whole army against the enemy,
suffer me to go by myself and examine their position ; and,
if possible, find out their numbers and strength."

210 Old Dcccan Days.

The Rajah consented, and the Chattee-maker returned
home to his wife, and said, " They have made me
Commander-in-Chief, whicli is a very difficult post for me to
fill, because I shall have to ride at the head of all tlie army,
and you know I never was on a horse in my life. But I
have succeeded in gaining a little delay, as the Rajah has
given me permission to go first alone, and reconnoitre the
enemy's camp. Do you, therefore, provide a very quiet
pony, for you knov\^ I cannot ride, and I will start to-morrow
morning."

But, before the Chattee-maker had started, the Rajah
sent over to him a most magnificent charger, richly capari-
soned, which he begged he would ride Avhen going to
see the enemy's camp. The Chattee-maker was frightened
almost out of his life, for the charger that the Rajah had
sent him, was very powerful and spirited, and he felt sure
that, even if he ever got on it, he should very soon tumble
off ; however, he did not dare to refuse it, for fear of oftend-
ing the Rajah by not accepting his present. So he sent
back to him a message of thanks, and said to his wife, " I
cannot go on the pony now that the Rajah has sent me this
fine horse, but how am I ever to ride it ? " " Oh, don't be
frightened," she answered, " you've only got to get upon it,
and I will tie you firmly on, so that you cannot tumble off,
and if you start at night no one will see that you are tied
on." " Veiy v/ell," he said. So that night his wife brought
the horse that the Rajah had sent him, to the door.
" Indeed," said the Chattee-maker, " I can never get into
that saddle, it is so high up." " You must jump," said his
wife. So he tried to jump several times, but each time he

TJic Valiant Chattec-Makcr. 211

jumped, he tumbled down again. "I always forget when I
am jumping," said he, " which way I ought to turn." " Your
face must be towards the horse's head," she answered.
" To be sure, of course," he cried, and giving one great
jump he jumped into the saddle, but with his face towards
the horse's tail. " This won't do at all," said his wife as she
helped him down again ; " try getting on without jumping."
" I never can remember," he continued, " when I have
got my left foot in the stirrup, what to do with my right foot,
or where to put it." " That must go in the other stirrup,"
she answered ; " let me help you." So, after many trials, in
which he tumbled down very often, for the horse was fresh
and did not like standing still, the Chattee-maker got into
the saddle ; but, no sooner had he got there than he
cried, " Oh, wife, wife ! tie me very firmly as quickly as
possible, for I know I shall jump down if I can." Then
she fetched some strong rope and tied his feet firmly into
the stirrups, and fastened one stirrup to the other, and put
another rope round his waist, and another round his neck,
and fastened them to the horse's body, and neck, and tail.

When the horse felt all these ropes about him he could
not imagine what queer creature had got upon his back, and
he began rearing, and kicking, and prancing, and at last set
off full gallop, as fast as he could tear, right across country.
" Wife, wife," cried the Chattee-maker, " you forgot to tie
my hands." "Never mind," said she; "hold on by the
mane." So he caught hold of the horse's mane as firmly as
he could. Then away went horse, away went Chattee-
maker, away, away, away, over hedges, over ditches, over
rivers, over plains, away, away, like a flash of lightning, now

212 Old Dcccan Days.

this way, now that, on, on, on, gallop, gallop, gallop,
until they came in sight of the enemy's camp.

The Chattee-maker did not like his ride at all, and when
he saw where it was leading him, he liked it still less, for he
thought the enemy would catch him and very likely kill
him. So he determined to make one desperate effort to be
free, and, stretching out his hand as the horse shot past a
young Banyan tree, seized hold of it with all his might,
hoping that the resistance it offered might cause the ropes
that tied him to break. But the horse was going at his
utmost speed, and the soil in which the Banyan tree grew
was loose, so that when the Chattee-maker caught hold of it
and gave it such a violent pull, it came up by the roots, and
on he rode as fast as before, with the tree in his hand.

All the soldiers in the camp saw him coming, and having
heard that an army was to be sent against them, made sure
that the Chattee-maker was one of the van-guard. " See,"
cried they, "here comes a man of gigantic stature on a mighty
horse 1 He rides at full speed across the country, tearing
up the very trees in his rage ! He is one of the opposing
force; the whole army must be close at hand. If they are
such as he, we are all dead men." Then, nuining to their
Rajah, some of them cried again, " Here comes the whole
force of the enemy" (for the story had by this time become
exaggerated), " they are men of gigantic stature, mounted
on mighty horses ; as they come they tear up the very trees
in their rage j we can oppose men, but not monsters such as
these." These were followed by others, who said, " It is
all true," for by this time the Chattee-maker had- got pretty
near the camp, " they're coming ! they're coming ! let us

The Valiant Chattcc-Maker. 213

fly ! let us fly ! fly, fly for your lives ! " And the whole
panic-stricken multitude fled from the camp (those who had
seen no cause for alarm going because the others did, or
because they did not care to stay by themselves), after having
obliged their Rajah to write a letter to the one whose country
he was about to invade, to say that he would not do so, and
propose terms of peace, and to sign it, and seal it with his
seal. Scarcely had all the people fled from the camp, when
the horse on which the Chattee-maker was, came galloping
into it, and on his back rode the Chattee-maker, almost
dead from fatigue, Avith the Banyan tree in his hand ; just as
he reached the camp the ropes by which he was tied broke,
and he fell to the ground. The horse stood still, too tired
with his long run to go furtlier. On recovering his senses,
the Chattee-maker found, to his surprise, that the whole
camp, full of rich arms, clothes, and trappings, was entirely
deserted. In the principal tent, moreover, he found a letter
addressed to his Rajah, announcing the retreat of the
invading army, and proposing terms of peace.

So he took the letter, and returned home with it as fast as
he could, leading his horse all the way, for he was afraid to
mount him again. It did not take him long to reach his
house by the direct road, for whilst riding he had gone a
more circuitous journey than was necessary, and he got
there just at nightfall. His wife ran out to meet him, over-
joyed at his speedy return. As soon as he saw her, he
said, " Ah, wife : since I saw you last I've been all round
the world, and had many wonderful and terrible adventures.
But never mind that now, send this letter quickly to the
Rajah by a messenger, and send the horse also that he sent

214 Old Dcccan Days.

for me to ride. He will then see, by the horse looking so
tired, what a long ride I've had ; and if he is sent on before-
hand, I shall not be obliged to ride him up to the palace
door to-morrow morning, as I otherwise should, and that
would be very tiresome, for most likely I should tumble
off" So his wife sent the horse and the letter to the Rajah,
and a message that her husband would be at the palace
early next morning, as it was then late at night. And next
day he went down there, as he had said he would, and when
the people saw him coming, they said, " This man is as
modest as he is brave ; after having put our enemies to
flight, he walks quite simply to the door, instead of riding
here in state, as another man would." For they did not
know that the Chattee-maker walked because he was afraid
to ride.

The Rajah came to the palace door to meet him, and
paid him all possible honour. Terms of peace were agreed
upon between the two countries, and the Chattee-maker was
rewarded for all he had done by being given twice as much
rank and wealth as he had before, and he lived very happily
all the rest of his life.

XVI r.

THE RAKSHAS' PALACE.

Once upon a time there lived a Rajah* who was left a
widower with t^vo little daughters. Not very long after his
first wife died, he married again, and his second wife did not
care for her step-children, and was often unkind to them ;
and the Rajali, their father, never troubled himself to look
after them, but allowed his wife to treat them as she liked.
This made the poor girls very miserable, and one day one
of them said to the other, " Don't let us remain any longer
here ; come away into the jungle, for nobody here cares
whether we go or stay." So they both walked off into the
jungle, and lived for many days on the jungle fruits. At
last, after they had wandered on for a long while, they came
to a fine palace which belonged to a Rakshas ;| but both the
Rakshas and his wife were out when they got there. Then
one of the Princesses said to the other, " This fine palace,
in the midst of the jungle, can belong to no one but a
Rakshas ; but the owner has evidently gone out ; let us go
in and see if we can find anything to eat." So they went
into the Rakshas' house, and finding some rice, boiled and

'* King. t Demoniacal Ogre.

2i6 Old Dcccan Days.

eat it. Then they swept the room, and arranged all the
furniture in the house tidily. But hardly had they finished
doing so, when the Rakshas and his wife returned home.
Then the two Princesses were so frightened that they ran
up to the top of the house, and hid themselves on the flat
roof, from whence they could look down on one side into
the inner courtyard of the house, and from the other
could see the open country. The house-top was a favourite
resort of the Rakshas and his wife. Here they would sit
upon the hot summer evenings ; here they winnowed the
grain, and hung out the clothes to dry ; and the two Prin-
cesses found a sufficient shelter behind some sheaves of corn
that were waiting to be thrashed. When the Rakshas came
into the house, he looked round, and said to his wife, " Some-
body has been arranging the house, everything in it is so
clean and tidy. Wife, did you do this ? " " Xo," she said ;
" I don't knov/ who can have done all this." " Some one also
has been sweeping the courtyard," continued the Rakshas.
" Wife, did you sweep the courtyard ? " " No," she answered,
"I did not do it. I don't know who did." Then the
Rakshas walked round and round several times with his
nose up in the air, saying, " Some one is here now. I smell
flesh and blood ! Where can they be ? " " Stuff and
nonsense," cried his wife. " You smell flesh and blood,
indeed ! AVhy )-ou have just been killing and eating a
hundred thousand people. I should wonder if you didn't
still smell flesh and blood ! " They went on quarrelling thus
until the Rakshas said, " Well, never mind, I don't know
how it is, but I'm very thirsty ; let's come and drink some
water." So both the Rakshas and his wife went to a well

The Rakshas Palace. 21/

which was close to the house, and began letting down jars
into it, and drawing up the water, and drinking it And the
Princesses, who were on the top of the house, saw them.
Now the youngest of the two Princesses was a very wise
girl, and when she saw the Rakshas and his wife by the
well, she said to her sister, " I will do something now that
will be good for us both ; " and, lanming down quickly from
the top of the house, she crept close behind the Rakshas
and his wife, as they stood on tip-toe more than half over the
side of the well, and, catching hold of one of the Rakshas'
heels, and one of his wife's, gave each a little push, and
down they both tumbled into the well and were drowned,
the Rakshas and the Rakshas' wife ! The Princess then
returned to her sister and said, " I have killed the
Rakshas." " What, both ? " cried her sister. " Yes, both,"
she said. "Won't they come back?" said her sister.
" No ; never," answered she.

The Rakshas being thus killed, the two Princesses took
possession of the house, and lived there very happily for a
long time. In it they found heaps and heaps of rich clothes,
and jewels, and gold and silver, which the Rakshas had
taken from people he had murdered ; and all round the
house were folds for the flocks, and sheds for the herds of
cattle which the Rakshas owned. Every morning the
youngest Princess used to drive out the flocks and herds to
pasturage, and return home with them every night, while
the eldest stayed at home, cooked the dinner, and kept the
house ; and the youngest Princess, who was the cleverest,
would often say to her sister on going away for the day,
" Take care if you see any stranger (be it man, woman, or

2i8 Old Dcccan Days.

child) come by the house, to hide, if possible, that nobody
may know of our li\ing here ; and if any one should call
out and ask for a drink of water, or any poor beggar
pray for food, before you give it them be sure you put on
ragged clothes, and cover your face with charcoal, and make
yourself look as ugly as possible, lest, seeing how fair you
are, they should steal you away; and we never meet
again." "Very well," the other Princess would answer, " I
will do as you advise."

But a long time passed, and no one ever came by that
way. At last one day, after the youngest Princess had gone
out, a young Prince, the son of a neighbouring Rajah, who
had been hunting with his attendants for many days in
the jungles, came near the place when searching for
water (for he and his people were tired with hunting, and
had been seeking all through the jungle for a stream of
water, but could find none). When the Prince saw the fine
palace, standing all by itself, he was very much astonished,
and said, " It is a strange thing that any one should have built
such a house as this in the depths of the forest ! Let us
go in ; the owners will doubtless give us a drink of water.''
" No, no, do not go," cried his attendants ; " this is most
likely the house of a Rakshas." "We can but see," answered
the Prince. " I should scarcely think anything very terrible
lived here, for there is not a sound stirring, nor a living
creature to be seen." So he began tapping at the door,
which was bolted, and crying, " Will whoever owns this
house give me and my people some Avater to drink, for the
sake of kind charity." But nobody answered, for the
Princess, who heard him, was busy up in her room, blacking

The RaksJias Palace. 219

her face with charcoal, and covering her rich dress with rags.
Then the Prince got impatient, and shook the door, saying,
angrily, " Let me in, whoever you are ! If you don't I'll
force the door open." At this the poor Httle Princess got
dreadfully frightened ; and, having blacked her face, and
made herself look as ugly as possible, she ran down stairs
with a pitcher of water, and unbolting the door, gave the
Prince the pitcher to drink from ; but she did not speak,
for she was afraid. Now the Prince was a very clever man,
and as he raised the pitcher to his mouth to drink the water,
he thought to himself, " This is a very strange-looking
creature who has brought rne this jug of water. She would
be pretty, but that her face seems to want washing, and her
dress also is very untidy. What can that black stuff be on
her face and hands ? it looks very unnatural." And so
thinking to himself, instead of drinking the water, he threw
it in the Princess' face ! The Princess started back with a
little cry, whilst the water, trickling down her face, washed
off the charcoal, and showed her delicate features and
beautiful fair complexion. The Prince caught hold of her
hand, and said, " Now tell me true, who are you ? where do
you come from ? Who are your father and mother ? and Avhy
are you here alone by yourself in the jungle ? Answer me,
or I'll cut your head off." And he made as if he would
draw his sword. The Princess was so terrified she could
hardly speak, but as best she could, she told how she was
the daughter of a Rajah, and had run away into the jungle
because of her cruel step-mother, and finding the house
had lived there ever since ; and, having finished her story,
she began to cry. Then the Prince said to her, " Pretty

220 Old Decern I Days.

lady, forgive me for my roughness ; do not fear ; I will take
you home with me, and you shall be my v/ife." But the
more he spoke to her the more frightened she got. So
frightened that she did not understand what he said, and
could do nothing but cry. Now she had said nothing to
the Prince about her sister, nor even told him that she had
one, for she thought, " This man says he will kill me ; if he
hears that I have a sister, they will kill her too." So the
Prince, who was really kind-hearted, and would never have
thought of separating the two little sisters who had been
together so long, knew nothing at all of the matter, and
only seeing she was too much alarmed even to understand
gentle words, said to his servants, " Place this lady in one of
the palkees,* and let us set off home." And they did so.
When the Princess found herself shut up in the palkee,
and being carried she knew not where, she thought how
terrible it would be for her sister to return home and find
her gone, and determined, if possible, to leave some sign to
show her which way she had been taken. Round her neck
w^ere many strings of pearls. She untied them, and tearing
her sareet into little bits, tied one pearl in each piece of
the saree, tliat it might be heavy enough to fall straight
to the ground ; and so she went on, dropping one pearl and
then another, and another, and another, all the way she went
along, until they reached the palace, where the Rajah and
Ranee, the Prince's father and mother, lived. She threw the
last remaining pearl down just as she reached the palace gate.
The old Rajah and Ranee were delighted to seethe beautiful
Princess their son had brought home ; and when they heard

* Palanquins. + Dress.

The Rakshas Palace. 221

her story they said, " Ah, poor thing ! what a sad story ; but
now she has come to hve with us, we will do all we can to
make her happy." And theyniarried her to their son with great
pomp and ceremony, and gave her rich dresses and jewels,
and were very kind to her. But the Princess remained sad
and unhappy, for she was always thinking about her sister,
and yet she could not summon courage to beg the Prince
or his father to send and fetch her to the palace.

Meantime the youngest Princess, who had been out with
her flocks and herds when the Prince took her sister away,
had returned home. When she came back she found the
door wide open, and no one standing there. She thought
it very odd, for her sister always came every night to the
door, to meet her on her return. She went up-stairs ; her
sister was not there ; the whole house was empty and
deserted. There she must stay all alone, for the evening;
had closed in, and it was impossible to go outside and seek
her with any hope of success. So all the night long she
waited, ciying, " Some one has been here, and they have
stolen her away; they have stolen my darling away. Oh,
sister ! sister ! " Next morning, very early, going out to-
continue the search, she found one of the pearls belonging
to her sister's necklace tied up in a small piece of saree ; a
little further on lay another, and yet another, all along the
road the Prince had gone. Then the Princess understood
that her sister had left this clue to guide her on her way, .
and she at once set off to find her again. Very, very far
she went — a six months' journey through the jungle — for
she could not travel fast, the many days' walking tired her
so much, and sometimes it took her two or three days to

222 Old Dcccan Days.

find the next piece of saree with the pearl. At last she
came near a large town, to which it was evident her sister
had been taken. Now this young Princess was very beauti-
ful indeed — as beautiful as she was wise — and when she got
near the town she thought to herself, " If people see me
they may steal me away as they did my sister, and then I
shall never find her again. I will therefore disguise myself."
As she was thus thinking she saw by the side of the road
the skeleton of a poor old beggar woman, who had evidently
died from want and poverty. The body was shrivelled up,
and nothing of it remained but the skin and bones. The
Princess took the skin and washed it, and drew it on over
her own lovely face and neck, as one draws a glove on
one's hand. Then she took a long stick and began hobbling
along, leaning on it, towards the town. The old woman's
skin was all crumpled and withered, and people who
passed by only thought, " What an ugly old woman," and
never dreamed of the false skin and the beautiful, handsome
girl inside! So on she went, picking up the pearls — one
here, one there — until she found the last pearl just in front
of the palace gate. Then she felt certain her sister must be
somewhere near, but where, she did not know. She longed
to go in to the palace and ask for her, but no guards would
have let such a wretched-looking old woman enter, and she
did not dare offer them any of the pearls she had with her,
lest they should think she was a thief. So she detemiined
merely to remain as close to the palace as possible, and
wait till fortune favoured her with the means of learning
something further about her sister. Just opposite the palace
was a small house belonging to a farmer, and the Princess

THE ROYAL FLOWER,

The RaksJias Palace. 223

went up to it, and stood by the door. The farmer's wife
saw her and said, " Poor old woman, who are you ? what
do you want ? why are you here ? Have you no friends ? "
" Alas, no," answered the Princess. " I am a poor old
Avoman and have neither father nor mother, son nor
daughter, sister nor brother, to take care of me ; all are
gone ! and I can only beg my bread from door to door."

" Do not grieve, good mother," answered the farmer's
wife, kindly. " You may sleep in the shelter of our porch,
and I will give you some food." So the Princess stayed
there for that night and for many more ; and every day the
good farmer's wife gave her food. But all this time she
could learn nothing of her sister.

Now there was a large tank near the palace, on which
grew some fine lotus plants, covered with rich crimson
lotuses — the royal flower — and of these the Rajah was very
fond indeed, and prized them very much. To this tank
(because it was the nearest to the farmer's house) the
Princess used to go every morning, very early, almost before
it was light, at about three o'clock, and take off the old
woman's skin and wash it, and hang it out to dry ; and wash
her face and hands and bathe her feet in the cool water, and
comb her beautiful hair. Then she would gather a lotus-
flower (such as she had been accustomed to wear in her hair
from a child) and put it on, so as to feel for a few minutes
like herself again ! Thus she would amuse herself After-
wards, as soon as the wind had dried the old woman's skin,
she put it on again, threw away the lotus-flower, and hobbled
back to the farmer's door, before the sun was up.

After a time the Rajah discovered that some one had

224 Old Dcccan Days.

plucked some of his favourite lotus flowers. People were
set to watch, and all the wise men in the kingdom put their
heads together to try and discover the thief, but without
avail. At last, the excitement about this matter being very-
great, the Rajah's second son, a brave and noble young
Prince (brother to him who had found the eldest Princess in
the forest) said, " I will certainly discover this thief" It
chanced that several fine trees grew round the tank. Into
one of these the young Prince climbed one evening, (having
made a sort of light thatched roof across two of the
boughs, to keep off the heavy dews,) and there he watched
all the night through, but with no more success than his
predecessors. There lay the lotus plants, still in the moon-
light, without so much as a thieving wind coming by to
break off one of the flowers. The Prince began to get
very sleepy, and thought the delinquent, whoever he might
be, could not intend to return, when, in the very early
morning, before it was light, ^\'ho should come down to
the tank but an old woman he had often seen near the
palace gate. " Ah, ha I " thought the Prince, " this then is
the thief; but what can this queer old woman want with
lotus flowers?" Imagine his astonishment when the old
woman sat down on the steps of the tank and began pulling
the skin off her face and arms ! and from underneath the
shrivelled yellow skin came the loveliest face he had ever
beheld ! So fair, so fresh, so young, so gloriously beautiful,
that appearing thus suddenly it dazzled the Prince's eyes
like a flash of golden lightning ! "Ah," thought he, " can
.this be a woman or a spirit ? a de\-il or an angel in
disguise ? "

The Rakshas Palace. 225

The Princess twisted up her glossy black hair ; and,
plucking a red lotus, placed it in it, and dabbled her feet in
the water, and amused herself by putting round her neck a
string of the pearls that had been her sister's necklace.
Then, as the sun was rising, she threw away the lotus, and
covering her face and arms again with the withered skin,
went hastily away. When the Prince got home the first
thing he said to his parents was, " Father, mother ; I should
like to marry that old woman who stands all day at the
farmer's gate, just opposite." "What!" cried they, "the
boy is mad ! Marry that skinny old thing ? You cannot —
you are a King's son. Are there not enough Queens and
Princesses in the world, that you should wish to marry a
wretched old beggar woman ? " But he answered, " Above
all things I should like to marry that old woman. You
know that I have ever been a dutiful and obedient son. In
this matter, I pray you, grant me my desire." Then, seeing
he was really in earnest about the matter, and that nothing
they could say would alter his mind, they listened to his
urgent entreaties ; not, however, without much grief and
vexation, and sent out the guards, who fetched the old
woman (who was really the Princess in disguise) to the
palace, where she was married to the Prince as privately,
and with as little ceremony, as possible, for the family were
ashamed of the match.

As soon as the wedding was over, the Prince said to his
wife, "Gentle wife, tell me how much longer you intend to
wear that old skin? You had better take it off; do be so
kind." The Princess wondered how he knew of her dis-
guise, or whether it was only a guess of his; and she

Q

226 Old Dcccan Days.

thought, '• If I take this ugly skin off, my husband will
tliink me pretty, and shut me up in the palace and never
let me go away, so that I shall not be able to find my sister
again. No, I had better not take it off." So she answered,
" I don't know what you mean. I am as all these years
have made me ; nobody can change their skin." Then the
Prince pretended to be very angry, and said, " Take off
that hideous disguise this instant, or I'll kill you." But she
only bowed her head, saying, " Kill me then, but nobody
can change their skin." And all this she mumbled as if she
were a very old woman indeed, and had lost all her teeth
and could not speak plain. At this the Prince laughed
xtry much to himself, and . thought, " I'll wait and see how
long this freak lasts." But the Princess continued to keep
on the old woman's skin; only everj' morning, at about three
o'clock, before it was light, she would get up and wash
it and put it on again. Then some time afterwards the
Prince, having found this out, got up softly one morning
early, and followed her to the next room, where she had
washed the skin and placed it on the floor to dry, and
stealing it, he ran away with it, and threw it on the fire. So
the Princess, having no old woman's skin to put on, was
obliged to appear in her own likeness. As she walked forth,
very sad at missing her disguise, her husband ran to meet
her, smiling and saying, " How do you do, my dear ?
Where is your skin now ? Can't you take it off, dear ? "
Soon the whole palace had heard the joyful news of the
beautiful young wife that the Prince had Avon ; and all the
people, when they saw her, cried, " Why she is exactly like
the beautiful Princess our young Rajah married, the jungle

The Rakshas Palace. 227

lady." The old Rajah and Ranee were prouder than all, of
their daughter-in-law, and took her to introduce her to their
eldest son's wife. Then no sooner did the Princess enter
her sister-in-law's room, than she saw that in her she had
found her lost sister, and they ran into each other's arms.
Great then was the joy of all, but the happiest of all these
happy people were the two Princesses ; and they lived
together in peace and joy their whole lives long.

j^^ f'fj^^^i''.

XVIII.

THE BLIND MAN, THE DEAF MAN,
AND THE DONKEY.

A Blind Man and a Deaf Man once entered into partner-
ship. The Deaf Man was to see for the Bhnd Man, and the
BHnd Man was to hear for the Deaf Man.

One day both went to a nautch"' together. The Deaf
Man said, " The dancing is very good, but the music is not
worth hstening to ; " and the Bhnd Man said, " On the con-
trary, I think the music very good, but the dancing is not
worth looking at."

After this they went together for a walk in the jungle,
and there they found a Dhobee's f donkey that had strayed
away from its owner, and a great big chattee J (such as
Dhobees boil clothes in), which the donkey was carrying
with him.

The Deaf Man said to the Blind Man, "■ Brother, here are

* Musical and dancing entertainment.
t Washemian's. J Jar.

The Blind Man, the Deaf Man, and the Donkey. 229

a donkey and a Dhobee's great big chattee. with nobody to
own them ! Let us take them with us, they may be useful
to us some day." " Very well," said the BHnd Man, "we
will take them with us." So the Blind Man and the Deaf
Man went on their way, taking the donkey and the great
big chattee with them. A little further on they came to an
ant's nest, and the Deaf Man said to the Blind Man, " Here
are a number of very fine black ants, much larger than any
I ever saw before. Let us take some of them home to show
our friends. ' " Very well," answered the Blind Man, " we
will take them as a present to our friends." So the Deaf
Man took a silver snuff-box out of his pocket, and put four
or five of the finest black ants into it ; which done, they
continued their journey.

But before they had gone very far a terrible storm came
on. It thundered, and lightened, and rained, and blew with
such fury that it seemed as if the whole heavens and earth
were at war. " Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! " cried the Deaf Man,
" how dreadful this lightning is ; let us make haste and get to
some place of shelter." " I don't see that it's dreadful at all,"
answered the Blind ]\Ian, " but the thunder is very terrible ;
we had better certainly seek some place of shelter."

Now, not far off was a lofty building, which looked
exactly like a fine temple. The Deaf Man saw it, and he and
the Blind Man resolved to spend the night there ; and, having
reached the place, they went in and shut the door, taking
the donkey and the great big chattee with them. But this
building, which they mistook for a temple, v/as in truth no
temple at all, but the house of a very powerful Rakshas ;*

* Demoniacal Ogre.

230 Old Dcccan Days.

and hardly had the BHnd Man, the Deaf Man, and the donkey
got inside, and fastened the door, than the Rakshas who
had been out, returned home. To his surprise he found the
door fastened, and heard people moving about inside his
house. " Ho ! ho I " cried he to himself, " some men have
got in here, have they ! I'll soon make mince-meat of
them." So he began to roar in a voice louder than the
thunder, and he cried, " Let me into my house this minute,
you A\Tetches; let me in, let me in, I say," and to kick the
door and batter it with his great fists. But though his voice
was very powerful, his appearance was still more alarming,
insomuch that the Deaf Man, who was peeping at him
through a chink in the wall, felt so frightened that he did
not know what to do. But the Blind Man was very brave
(because he couldn't see), and went up to the door, and called
out, " ^^^lo are you ? and what do you mean by coming
battering at the door in this way, and at this time of
night?"

" I'm a Rakshas," answered the Rakshas, angrily, " and
this is my house. Let me in this instant, or I'll kill you." All
this time the Deaf Man, who was watching the Rakshas,
was shivering and shaking in a terrible fright, but the Blind
Man was very brave (because he couldn't see), and he called
out again, " Oh, you're a Rakshas, are you ! Well, if you're
Rakshas, I'm Bakshas ; and Bakshas is as good as Rakshas."
" Bakshas ! " roared the Rakshas. " Bakshas ! Bakshas !
What nonsense is this ? There is no such creature as a
Bakshas ! " " Go away," replied the Blind I\Ian, "and don't
dare to make any further disturbance lest I punish you with
a vengeance ; for know that I'm Bakshas ! and Bakshas is

The Blind Jllan, the Deaf Man, and the Donkey. 231

Rakshas' father." " My father ? " answered the Rakshas.
" Heavens and earth ! Bakshas, and my father ? I never
heard such an extraordinary thing in my Hfe. You, my father,
and in there ? I never knew my father was called Bakshas ! "
"Yes," replied the Blind Man; *'go away instantly, I
command you, for I am your father Bakshas." " Very well,"
answered the Rakshas (for he began to get puzzled and
frightened), " but, if you are my father, let me first see your
face." (For he thought "Perhaps they are deceiving me.")
The Blind Man and the Deaf Man didn't know what to do ;
but at last they opened the door — a very tiny chink — and
poked the donkey's nose out. When the Rakshas saw it he
thought to himself, " Bless me, what a terribly ugly face my
father Bakshas has !" He then called out, " O, father Bakshas,
you have a very big fierce face ; but people have sometimes
very big heads and very little bodies. Pray let me see you,
body as well as head, before I go away." Then the Blind
Man and the Deaf Man rolled the great big Dhobee's chattee
with a thundering noise past the chink in the door, and the
Rakshas, who was watching attentively, was very much
surprised when he saw this great black thing rolling along
the floor, and he thought, " In truth, my father Bakshas has
a very big body as well as a big head. He's big enough to
eat me up altogether. I'd better go away." But still he
could not help being a little doubtful, so he cried, " O,
Bakshas, father Bakshas ! you have indeed got a very big
head and a very big body ; but do, before I go away, let
me hear you scream" (for all Rakshas scream fearfully).
Then the cunning Deaf Man (who was getting less frightened)
pulled the silver snuff-box out of his pocket, and took the

232 Old Dcccaii Days.

black ants out of it, and put one black ant in the donkey's
right ear, and another black ant in the donkey's left ear,
and another, and another. The ants pinched the poor
donkey's ears dreadfully, and the donkey was so hurt and
frightened he began to bellow as loud as he could, " Eh
augh ! eh augli ! eh augh ! augh ! augh ! " and at this ter-
rible noise the Rakshas fled away in a great fright, saying,
*' Enough, enough, father Bakshas, the sound of your voice
would make the most refractory obedient." And no sooner
had he gone, than the Deaf Man took the ants out of the
donkey's ears, and he and the Blind Man spent the rest of
the night in peace and comfort

Next morning the Deaf Man woke the Blind Man early,
saying, " Awake, brother, awake ; here we are indeed in
luck ! the whole floor is covered with heaps of gold and
silver and precious stones." And so it was ; for the Rakshas
owned a vast amount of treasure, and the whole house was
full of it. " That is a good thing," said the Blind Man.
" Show me where it is and I will help you to collect it."
So they collected as much treasure as possible, and made four
great bundles of it. The Blind Man took one great bundle,
the Deaf-Man took another ; and, putting the other two great
bundles on the donkey, they started off to return home.
But the Rakshas, whom they had frightened away the night
before, had not gone very far off, and was waiting to see
what his father Bakshas might look like by daylight. He
saw the door of his house open, and watched attentively,
when out walked — only a Blind Man, a Deaf Man, and a
donkey, who were all three laden with large bundles of his
treasure ! The Blind Man carried one bundle, the Deaf

The Blind Man, the Deaf Man, and the Donkey. 233

Man carried another bundle, and two bundles were on the
donke3\

The Rakshas was extremely angry, and immediately
called six of his friends to help him kill the Blind Man, the
Deaf Man, and the donkey, and recover the treasure.

The Deaf Man saw them coming (seven great Rakshas,
with hair a yard long, and tusks like an elephant's), and
was dreadfully frightened ; but the Blind Man was very brave
(because he couldn't see), and said, " Brother, why do you
lag behind in that way ? " " Oh ! " answered the Deaf Man,
"there are seven great Rakshas with tusks like an ele-
phant's coming to kill us ; what can we do ? " " Let us
hide the treasure in the bushes," said the Blind Man ; " and
do you lead me to a tree ; then I will climb up first, and
you shall climb up afterwards, and so we shall be out of
their way." The Deaf Man thought this good advice, so he
pushed the donkey and the bundles of treasure into the
bushes, and led the Blind Man to a high soparee""'' tree that
grew close by ; but he was a very cunning man, this Deaf
Man, and instead of letting the Blind Man climb up first and
following him, he got up first and let the Blind Man clamber
after, so that he was farther out of harm's way than his
friend.

When the Rakshas arrived at the place, and saw them
both perched out of reach in the soparee tree, he said to his
friends, " Let us get on each other's shoulders ; we shall
then be high enough to pull them down." So one Rakshas
stooped down, and the second got on his shoulders, and
the third on his, and the fourth on his, and the fifth on
'•* Areca Catechu, the Betel-nut Palm.

234 Old Dcccan Days.

his, and tlie sixth on his, and the seventh and the
last Rakshas (who had invited all the others) was just
climbing up, when the Deaf Man (who was looking over the
Blind Man's shoulder) got so frightened, that in his alarm he
caught hold of his friend's arm, crying, " They're coming,
they're coming ! " The Blind Man was not in a very secure
position, and was sitting at his ease, not knowing how close
the Rakshas were. The consequence was, that when the
Deaf Man gave him this unexpected push, he lost his balance
and tumbled down on to tlie neck of the seventh Rakshas,
who was just then climbing up. The Blind Man had no
idea where he was, but thought he had got on to the branch
of some other tree ; and, stretching out his hand for some-
thing to catch hold of, caught hold of the Rakshas' two
great ears, and pinched them very hard in his surprise and
fright. The Rakshas couldn't think what it was that had
come tumbling down upon him ; and the weight of the
Blind Man upsetting his balance, down he also fell to the
ground, knocking down in their turn the sixth, fifth, fourth,
third, second and first Rakshas, who all rolled one over
another, and lay in a confused heap at the foot of the tree
together. Meanwhile the Blind Man called out to his friend,
" Where am I ? what has happened ? Where am I ? where
am I?" The Deaf ^lan (who was safe up in the tree)
answered, '• Well done, brother ! never fear ! never fear !
You're all right, only hold on tight. I'm coming do'wn to
help you." But he had not the least intention of leaving
his place of safety. However, he continued to call out,
" Never mind, brother, hold on as tight as you can. I'm
coming, I'm coming," and the more he called out, the harder

The Blind Man, the Deaf Man, and the Donkey. 235

the Blind Man pinched the Rakshas' ears, which he mistook
for some kind of palm branches. The six other Rakshas,
who had succeeded, after a good deal of kicking, in extricat-
ing themselves from their unpleasant position, thought they
had had quite enough of helping their friend, and ran away
as fast as they could ; and the seventh, thinking from their
going that the danger must be greater than he imagined, and
being moreover very much afraid of the mysterious creature
that sat on his shoulders, put his hands to the back of his
ears and pushed off the Blind Man; and then (without
staying to see who or what he was) followed his six com-
panions as fast as he could.

As soon as all the Rakshas were out of sight, the Deaf
Man came down from the tree, and, picking up the Blind
Man, embraced him, saying, "I could not have done better
myself. You have frightened away all our enemies, but you
see I came to help you as fast as possible." He then
dragged the donkey and the bundles of treasure out of the
bushes, gave the Blind Man one bundle to carr}^, took the
second himself, and put the remaining two on the donkey,
as before. This done, the whole party set off to return
home. But when they had got nearly out of the jungle the
Deaf Man said to the Blind Man, " We are now close to the
village ; but if we take all this treasure home with us, we
shall run great risk of being robbed. I think our best plan
would be to divide it equally, then you shall take care of your
half, and I will take care of mine, and each one can hide his
share here in the jungle, or wherever pleases him best."
<' Very well," said the Blind Man, " do you divide what we
have in the bundles into two equal portions, keeping one half

236 Old Dcccan Days.

yourself and giving me the otlier." But tlie cunning Deaf
]\Ian had no intention of giving up half of the treasure to
the Blind Man, so he first took his own bundle of treasure
and hid it in the bushes, and then he took the two
bundles off the donkey, and hid them in the bushes ; and
he took a good deal of treasure out of the Blind Man's
bundle, which he also hid. Then, taking the small quantity
that remained, he divided it into two equal portions, and
placing half before the Blind Man, and half in front of him-
self, said, " There, brother, is your share to do what you
please with." The Blind Man put out his hand, but when
he felt what a veiy little heap of treasure it was, he got very
angr)^, and cried, " This is not fair, you are deceiving me ;
you have kept almost all the treasure for yourself, and only
given me a very little." "Oh, oh ! how can you think so,"
answered the Deaf Man ; " but if you will not believe me
feel for yourself See, my heap of treasure is no larger than
yours." The Blind Man put out his hands again, to feel how
much his friend had kept ; but in front of the Deaf Man lay
only a very small heap, no larger than what he had himself
received. At this he got very cross, and said, " Come,
come, this won't do. You think you can cheat me in this
way because I am blind ; but I'm not so stupid as all that.
I carried a great bundle of treasure ; you carried a great
bundle of treasure ; and there were two great bundles on the
donkey. Do you mean to pretend that, all that made no
more treasure than these two little heaps ? No, indeed, I
know better than that." "Stuff and nonsense," answered
the Deaf Man." " Stuff or no stuff," continued the other,
" you are trying to take me in, and I won't be taken in

The Blind Man, tJic Deaf Man, and the Donkey. 237

by you." " No, I'm not," said the Deaf Man. " Yes, you
are," said the Blind Man; and so they went on, bickering,
scolding, growling, contradicting, until the Blind Man got so
enraged that he gave the Deaf Man a tremendous box on
the ear. The blow was so violent that it made the Deaf Man
hear ! The Deaf Man, very angry, gave his neighbour ia
return so hard a blow in the face, that it opened the Blind
Man's eyes !

So the Deaf Man could hear as well as see ! and the Blind
Man could see as well as hear ! This astonished them both
so much that they became good friends at once. The Deaf
Man confessed to having hidden the bulk of the treasure,
which he thereupon dragged forth from its place of conceal-
ment, and having divided it equally, they went home and
enjoyed themselves.

XIX.

MUCHIE LAL.

On'CE upon a time there were a Rajah and Ranee* who
had no children. Long had they wished and prayed that
the gods would send them a son, but it was all in vain ;
their prayers were not granted. One day a number of fish
were brought into the royal kitchen to be cooked for the
Rajah's dinner, and amongst them was one little fish that
was not dead ; but all the rest w'ere dead. One of the
palace maid-servants seeing this, took the little fish and put
him in a basin of water. Shortly aftenvards the Ranee
saw him, and thinking him very pretty, kept him as a pet ;
and because she had no children she lavished all her affec-
tion on the fish, and loved him as a son ; and the people
called him IMuchie-Rajah (the Fish Prince). In a little
while Muchie-Rajah had gro^\•n too long to live in the small
basin, so they put him in a larger one ; and then (when
he grew too long for that) into a big tub. In time, however,
Muchie-Rajah became too large for even the big tub to hold
him ; so the Ranee had a tank made for him in which he
lived very happily, and twice a day she fed him with boiled
rice. Now, though the people fancied Muchie-Rajah
was only a fish, this was not the case. He was, in tmth, a

* King and Queen.

Muchic Lai. 239

young Rajah who had angered the gods, and been by them
turned into a fish and thrown into the river, as a punisli-
ment.

One morning, when the Ranee brought him his daily meal
of boiled rice, Muchie-Rajah called out to her and said,
" Queen Mother, Queen Mother, I am so lonely here all by
myself. Cannot you get. me a wife ?" The Ranee promised
to try, and sent messengers to all the people she knew, to
ask if they would allow one of their children to marry her son,
the Fish Prince. But they all answered, "We cannot give one
of our dear little, daughters to be devoured by a great fish,
even though he is the Muchie-Rajah, and so high in your
Majesty's favour."

At news of this the Ranee did not know what to do. She
was so foolishly fond of Muchie-Rajah, however, that she
resolved to get him a wife at any cost. Again she sent out
messengers ; but this time she gave them a great bag con-
taining a lac of gold mohurs,* and said to them, " Go into
every land until you find a wife for my Muchie-Rajah, and
to whoever will give you a child to be the Muchie-Ranee,+
you shall give this bag of gold mohurs." The messengers
started on their search, but for some time they were unsuc-
cessful ; not even the beggars were to be tempted to sell their
children, fearing the great fish would devour them. At last
one day the messengers came to a village where there lived a
Fakeer,:j: who had lost, his first wife and married again. His
first wife had had one little daughter, and his second wife

* A gold mohur is worth £\ \os, A lac of gold mohurs is equal to
/1 50, 060.

t Fish Queen. X Holy beggar.

240 Old Dcccau Days.

also had a daughter. As it happened, the Fakeer's second
wife hated her Httle step-daughter, ahvays gave her the
hardest work to do, and the least food to eat, and tried by
every means in her power to get her out of the way, in order
that the child might not rival her own daughter. When she
heard of the errand on which the messengers had come, she
sent for them when the Fakeer was out, and said to them,
" Give me the bag of gold mohurs and you shall take my
little daughter to marry the Muchie-Rajah " (for, she
thought to herself, " The great fish will certainly eat the
girl, and she will thus trouble us no more"). Then, turning
to her step-daughter, she said, " Go down to the river and
wash your saree,* that you may be fit to go with these people,
who wll take you to the Ranee's court." At these words
the poor girl went down to the river very sorrowful, for she
saw no hope of escape, as her father was from home. As
she knelt by the river side, washing her saree and crying
bitterly, some of her tears fell into the hole of an old Seven-
headed Cobra, who lived in the river bank. This Cobra was
a very mse animal, and seeing the maiden he put his head
out of his hole, and said to her, " Little girl, why do you
cry ?" " Oh, sir," she answered, " I am very unhappy, for my
father is from home, and my step-mother has sold me to the
Ranee's people to be the wife of the ]Muchie-Rajah, that
great fish, and I know he will eat me up." " Do not be
afraid, my daughter," said the Cobra, " but take with you
these three stones and tie them up in the comer of your
saree ;" and so saying he gave her three little round pebbles.
" The Muchie-Rajah, whose wife you are to be, is not really
* Dress.

MucJiic Lai. 241

a fish, but a Rajah who has been enchanted. Your home
will be a little room which the Ranee has had built in the
tank wall. When you are taken there, wait, and be sure
you don't go to sleep, or the Muchie-Rajah will certainly
come and eat you up. But as you hear him coming rushing
through the water, be prepared, and as soon as you see him
throw this first stone at him j he will then sink to the bottom
of the tank. The second time he comes, tlirow the second
stone, when the same thing will happen. The third time he
comes, throw this third stone, and he will immediately
resume his human shape." So saying, the old Cobra dived
down again into his hole. The Fakeer's daughter took the
stones, and determined to do as the Cobra had told her,
though she hardly believed it would have the desired effect.

When she reached the palace, the Ranee spoke kindly to
her, and said to the messengers, "You have done your
errand well — this is a dear little girl." Then she ordered
that she should be let down the side of the tank in a basket,
to a little room which had been prepared for her. When
the Fakeer's daughter got there, she thought she had never
seen such a pretty place in her life, (for the Ranee had
caused the little room to be very nicely decorated for the
wife of her favourite,) and she would have felt very happy
away from her cmel step-mother and all the hard work she
had been made to do, had it not been for the dark water
that lay black and unfathomable below the door, and the
fear of the terrible Muchie-Rajah.

After waiting some time she heard a rushing sound, and
little Avaves came dashing against the threshold ; faster they
came and faster, and the noise got louder and louder, until

242 Old Dcccan Days.

she saw a great fish's head above the water — the INIuchie-
Rajah was coming towards her open-mouthed. The Fakeer's
daughter seized one of the stones that the Cobra had given
her, and threw it at him, and down he sank to the bottom of
the tank ; a second time he rose and came towards her,
and she threw the second stone at him, and he again sank
down ; a third time he came more fiercely than before, when,
seizing the third stone she threw it with all her force. No
sooner did it touch him than the spell was broken, and
there, instead of a fish, stood a handsome young Prince.
The poor little Fakeer's daughter was so startled that she
began to cr}'. But the Prince said to her, " Prett}' maiden,
do not be frightened. You have rescued me from a horrible
thraldom, and I can never thank you enough ; but if you
will be the Muchie-Ranee, we will be married to-morrow."
Then he sat down on the door-stejD, thinking over his
strange fate, and watching for the dawn.

Next morning early, several inquisitive people came to
see if the Muchie-Rajah had eaten up his poor Httle wife,
as they feared he would ; what was their astonishment, on
looking over the tank wall, to see, not the INIuchie Rajah,
but a magnificent Prince ! The news soon spread to the
palace. Dou-n came the Rajah, down came the Ranee,
down came all their attendants and dragged INIuchie-Rajah
and the Fakeer's daughter up the side of the tank in a
basket ; and when they heard their stor}^, there were great
and unparalleled rejoicings. The Ranee said, " So I have
indeed found a son at last." And the people were so de-
lighted, £0 happy, and proud of the new Prince and Princess,
that they covered all their path with damask from the tank

Mnchic Lai. 243

to the palace, and cried to their fellows, " Come and see our
new Prince and Princess. Were ever any so divinely
beautiful ? Come ; see a right royal couple ! A pair of
mortals like the gods ! " And when they reached the palace
the Prince was married to the Fakeer's daughter.

There they lived very happily for some time. The
Muchie-Ranee's step-mother, hearing what had happened,
came often to see her step-daughter, and pretended to be
delighted at her good fortune ; and the Ranee was so good
that she quite forgave all her step-mother's former cruelty,
and always received her very kindly. At last, one day, the
Muchie-Ranee said to her husband, " It is a weary while
since I saw my father. If you will give me leave, I should
much like to visit my native village and see him again."
" Very well," he replied, " you may go. But do not stay
away long ; for there can be no happiness for me till you
return." So she went, and her father was delighted to
see her ; but her step-mother, though she pretended to be
very kind, was, in reality, only glad to think she had got the
Ranee into her power, and determined, if possible, never to
allow her to return to the palace again. One day, therefore,
she said to her own daughter, " It is hard that your step-sister
should have become Ranee of all the land, instead of being
eaten up by the great fish, while we gained no more than a
lac of gold mohurs. Do now as I bid you, that you may
become Ranee in her stead." She then went on to instruct
her how that she must invite the Ranee down to the river
bank, and there beg her to let her try on her jewels, and
whilst putting them on, give her a push and drown her in
the river.

s. 2

244 Old Dcccan Days.

The girl consented, and standing by the river bank said
to her step-sister, " Sister, may I try on your jewels — how
pretty they are." " Yes," said the Ranee, " and we shall be
able to see in the river how they look." So, undoing her
necklaces she clasped them round the other's neck ; but
■whilst she was doing so, her step-sister gave her a push, and
she fell backwards into the water. The girl watched to see
that the body did not rise, and then running back, said to
her mother, " Mother, here are all the jewels ; and she will
trouble us no more." But it happened that just when her
step-sister pushed the Ranee into the river, her old friend the
Seven-headed Cobra chanced to be swimming across it, and
seeing the little Ranee like to be drowned, he carried her on
his back until he reached his hole, into which he took her
safely. Now this hole, in which the Cobra and his wife,
and all his little ones lived, had two entrances — the one
under water, and leading to the river, and the other above
water, leading out into the open fields. To this upper end
of his hole the Cobra took the Muchie-Ranee, and there
he and his wife took care of her; and there she lived
with them for some time. Meanwhile, the wicked Fakeer's
wife, having dressed up her own daughter in all the Ranee's
jewels, [took her to the palace, and said to the Muchie-
Rajah, "See, I have brought your wife, my dear daughter,
back safe and well." The Rajah looked at her, and thought,
" This does not look like my wdfe." However, the room
was dark, and the girl was cleverly disguised, and he thought
he might be mistaken. Next day he said again, " ]\Iy wife
must be sadly changed, or this cannot be she ; for she was
always bright and cheerful. She had pretty loving ways and

Muchic Lai 245

merry words ; while this woman never opens her hps."
Still, he did not like to seem to mistrust his wife, and com-
forted himself by saying, " Perhaps she is tired with the long
journey." On the third day, however, he could bear the un-
certainty no longer, and tearing off her jewels, saw, not the
face of his own little wife, but another woman. Then he was
very angry, and turned her out of doors, saying, " Begone ;
since you are but the wretched tool of others, I spare your
life." But of the Fakeer's wife he said to his guards,
" Fetch that woman here instantly ; for unless she can tell
me where my wife is, I will have her hanged." It chanced,
however, that the Fakeer's wife had heard of the IMuchie-
Rajah having turned her daughter out of doors ; so, fearing
his anger, she hid herself, and was not to be found.

Meantime, the Muchie-Ranee, not knowing how to get
home, continued to live in the great Seven-headed Cobra's
hole, and he and his wife and all his family were very kind
to her, and loved her as if she had been one of them ; and
there her little son was born, and she called him Muchie-
Lal,* after the Muchie-Rajah, his father. Muchie-Lal was a
lovely child, merry and brave, and his playmates all day
long were the young Cobras, f When he was about three
years old, a Bangle-seller came by that way, and the
Muchie-Ranee bought some bangles from him and put them
on her boy's wrists and ancles ; but by next day, in playing,
he had broken them all. Then, seeing the Bangle-seller,
the Ranee called him again and bought some more, and so
on, every day, until the Bangle-seller got quite rich from
selling so many bangles for the Muchie-Lal ; for the Cobra's

* Little ruby fish. t See Notes at the end.

246 Old Dcccan Days.

hole was full of treasure, and he gave the Muchie-Ranee
as much money to spend every day as she liked. There
was nothing she wished for he did not give her, only he
would not let her try to get home to her husband, which
she wished more than all. When she asked him he would
say, " No, I will not let you go. If your husband comes
here and fetches you, it is well ; but I will not allow you to
Avander in search of him through the land alone."

And so she was obliged to stay where she was.

All this time the poor Muchie-Rajah was hunting in every
part of the country for his wife, but he could learn no
tidings of her. For giief and sorrow at losing her he had
gone Avell nigh distracted, and did nothing but wander from
place to place crying, " She is gone ! she is gone ! " Then,
when he had long inquired without avail of all the people
in her native village about her, he one day met a Bangle-
seller, and said to him, "Whence do you come?" The
Bangle-seller answered, " I have just been selling bangles to
some people who live in a Cobra's hole in the river bank."
" People ! What people ?" asked the Rajah. " ^\^"ly,"
answered the Bangle-seller, "a woman and a child — the
child is the most beautiful I ever saw. He is about three
years old, and, of course, ninning about, is always breaking
his bangles, and his mother buys him new ones every day."
" Do you know what the child's name is?" said the Rajah.
" Yes," answered the Bangle-seller carelessly, " for the lady
always calls him her Muchie-Lal." "Ah,'' thought the
Muchie-Rajah, " this must be my wife." Then he said to him
again, " Good Bangle-seller, I would see these strange people
of whom you speak; cannot you take me there?'' "Not

Mitchic Lai. 247

to-night," replied the Bangle-seller ; " daylight has gone, and
we should only frighten them ; but I shall be going there
again to-moiTow, and then you may come too. Meanwhile,
come and rest at my house for the night, for you look faint
and weary." The Rajah consented. Next morning, how
ever, very early, he woke the Bangle-seller, saying, " Pray let
us go now and see the people you spoke about yesterday."
" Stay," said the Bangle-seller; " it is much too early. I never
go till after breakfast." So the Rajah had to wait till the
Bangle-seller was_ ready to go. At last they started off, and
when they reached the Cobra's hole, the first thing tlie Rajah
saw was a fine little boy playing with the young Cobras.

As the Bangle-seller came along, jingling his bangles, a
gentle voice from inside the hole called out, " Come here,
my Muchie-Lal, and try on your bangles." Then the
Muchie-Rajah, kneeling down at the mouth of the hole,
said, " Oh, Lady, show your beautiful face to me." At the
sound of his voice the Ranee ran out, crying, " Husband,
husband ! have you found me again." And she told him how
her sister had tried to drown her, and how the good Cobra
had saved her life, and taken care of her and her child.
Then he said, " And will you now come home with me?"
And she told him how the Cobra would never let her go,
and said, " I will first tell him of your coming ; for he has
been as a father to me." So she called out, " Father Cobra,
Father Cobra, my husband has come to fetch me ; will you
let me go?" "Yes," he said, "if your husband has come
to fetch you, you may go." And his wife said, " Farewell,
dear Lady, we are loth to lose you, for we have loved you
as a daughter." And all the little Cobras were very

14S

Old Dcccan Days.

sorrowful to think that they must lose their playfellow, the
young Prince. Then the Cobra gave the Muchie-Rajah
and the Muchie-Ranee, and Muchie-Lal, all the most costly
gifts he could find in his treasure-house ; and so they went
home, where they lived very happy ever after, and so may
you be happy too.

CHUNDUN RAJAH.

Once upon a time a Rajah and Ranee died, leaving
seven sons and one daughter. All these seven sons were
married, and the wives of the six eldest used to be very
unkind to their poor little sister-in-law ; but the wife of the
seventh brother loved her dearly, and always took her part
against the others. She would say, " Poor little thing, her life
is sad. Her mother wished so long for a daughter, and then
the girl Avas bom and the mother died, and never saw her
poor child, or was able to ask any one to take care of her."
At which the wives of the six elder brothers would answer,
" You only take such notice of the girl in order to vex us."
Then, while their husbands were away, they made up wicked
stories against their sister-in-law, which they told them on
their return home ; and their husbands believed them
rather than her, and were very angry with her, and ordered
her to be turned out of the house. But the wife of the
seventh brother did not believe what the six others said, and
was very kind to the little Princess, and sent her secretly as
much food as she could spare from her own dinner. But as
they drove her from their door, the six wives of the elder
brothers cried out, " Go away, wicked girl, go away, and

250 Old Dcccan Days.

never let us see your face again until you marrj' Chundun
Rajah 1* When you invite us to the wedding, and give us
six eldest, six common wooden stools to sit on, but the
seventh sister (who always takes your part) a fine emerald
chair, we will believe you innocent of all the evil deeds of
which you are accused, but not till then !" This they said
scornfully, railing at her ; for Chundun Rajah, of Avhom
they spoke (who was the great Rajah of a neighbouring
countr}-) had been dead many months.

So, sad at heart, the Princess wandered forth into the
jungle ; and when she had gone through it, she came upon
another, still denser than the first. The trees grew so
thickly overhead that she could scarcely see the sky, and
there was no village nor house of living creature near. The
food her youngest sister-in-law had given her was nearly ex-
hausted, and she did not know where to get more. At last,
however, after journeying on for many days, she came upon
a large tank, beside which was a fine house that belonged to
a Rakshas.f Being very tired, she sat down on the edge of
the tank to eat some of the parched rice that remained of
her store of provisions ; and as she did so she thought,
" This house belongs doubtless to a Rakshas, who perhaps
will see me and kill and eat me ; but since no one cares for
me, and I have neither home nor friends, I hold life cheap
enough." It happened, however, that the Rakshas was then
out, and there was no one in his house but a little cat and
dog, who were his servants.

The dog's duty was to take care of the saffron with which

* King Sandlewood.

t Gigantic demoniacal Ogre.

CJuiudun Raj all. 251

the Rakshas coloured his face on high days and hoUdays,
and the cat had charge of the antimony with which he
blackened his eyelids. Before the Princess had been long
by the tank, the little cat spied her out, and running to her
said, " Oh, sister, sister, I am so hungry, pray give me some
of your dinner." The Princess answered, " I have veiy
little rice left ; when it is all gone I shall starve. If I give
you some, what have you to give me in exchange?" The
cat said, " I have charge of the antimony with which my
Rakshas blackens his eyelids, I will give you some of it ;"
and running to the house she fetched a nice little pot full of
antimony, which she gave to the Princess in exchange for
the rice. When the little dog saw this, he also ran down to
the tank, and said, " Lady, Lady, give me some rice, I pray
you ; for I, too, am very hungry." But she answered, " I have
very little rice left, and when it is all gone I shall starve.
If I give you some of my dinner, what will you give me in
exchange V The dog said, " I have charge of my Rakshas'
saffron, with which he colours his face. I will give you
some of it." So he ran to the house and fetched a quantity
of saffron and gave it to the Princess, and she gave him also
some of the rice. Then, tying the antimony and saffron up
in her saree,* she said good-bye to the dog and cat and went
on her way.

Three or four days after this, she found she had nearly
reached the other side of the jungle. The wood was not so
thick, and in the distance she saw a large building that
looked like a great tomb. The Princess determined to go
and see what it was, and whether she could find any one

252 Old Dcccan Days.

there to give her any food, for she had eaten all the
rice and felt very hungry, and it was getting towards night.

Now the place towards which the Princess went was the
tomb of the Chundun Rajah, but this she did not know.

Chundun Rajah had died many months before, and his
father, and mother, and sisters, who loved him very dearly,
could not bear the idea of his being buried under the cold
ground ; so they had built a beautiful tomb, and inside it
they had placed the body on a bed under a canopy, and it
had never decayed, but continued as fair and perfect
as when first put there. Every day Chundun Rajah's
mother and sisters would come to the place to weep and
lament from sunrise to sunset ; but each evening they re-
turned to their own homes. Hard by was a shrine and
small hut where a Brahmin lived, who had charge of the
place ; and from far and near people used to come to visit
the tomb of their lost Rajah, and see the great miracle, how
the body of him who had been dead so many months
remained perfect and undecayed ; but none knew why this
Avas. When the Princess got near the place a violent stomi
came on. The rain beat upon her and wetted her, and it
grew so dark she could hardly see where she was going.
She would have been afraid to go into the tomb had she
known about Chundun Rajah ; but as it was, the storm
being so violent and night approaching, she ran in there for
shelter as fast as she could, and sat down shivering in one
corner. By the light of an oil lamp that burnt dimly in a
niche in the wall, she saw in front of her the body of the
Rajah lying under the canopy, with the heavy jewelled
coverlid over him, and the rich hangings all round. He

CJnindnn Rajah. 253

looked as if he were only asleep, and she did not feel
frightened. But at twelve o'clock, to her great surprise, as
she was watching and waiting, the Rajah came to life ; and
when he saw her sitting shivering in the corner, he fetched
alight and came towards her and said, "Who are you?"
She answered, " I am a poor lonely girl. I only came here
for shelter from the storm. I am dying of cold and hunger."
And then she told him all her story — how that her sisters-in-
law had falsely accused her, and driven her from among
them into the jungle, bidding her see their faces no more
until she married the Chundun Rajah, who had been dead
so many months ; and how the youngest had been kind to
her and sent her food, which had prevented her from
starving by the way.

The Rajah listened to the Princess's words, and was
certain that they were true, and she no common beggar from
the jungles. For, for all her ragged clothes, she looked a
royal lady, and shone like a star in the darkness. More-
over, her eyelids were darkened with antimony and her
beautiful face painted with saffron, like the face of a Prin-
cess. Then he felt a great pity for her, and. said, " Lady,
have no fear, for I will take care of you," and dragging the
rich coverlid off his bed he threw it over her to keep her
warm, and going to the Brahmin's house, which was close
by, fetched some rice, which he gave her to eat. Then he
said, " I am the Chundun Rajah of whom you have heard.
I die every day, but every night I come to life for a little
while." She cried, " Do none of your family know of this?
and if so, why do you stay here in a dismal tomb?" He
answered, " None know it but the Brahmin who has

254 Old Dcccan Days.

charge of this place. Since my hfe is thus maimed, what
would it avail to tell my family ? It would but grieve them
more than to think me dead. Therefore, I have forbidden
him to let them know ; and since my parents only come
here by day, they have never found it out May be, I
shall some time wholly recover, and till then I will be silent
about my existence." Then he called the Brahmin who
had charge of the tomb and the shrine (and who daily
placed an offering of food upon it for the Rajah to eat
when he came to life) and said to him, " Henceforth, place
a double quantity of food upon the shrine, and take care of
this lady. If I ever recover she shall be my Ranee." And
having said these words he died again. Then the Brahmin
took the Princess to his little hut, and bade his wife see
that she wanted for nothing, and all the next day she rested
in that place. Very early in the morning Chundun Rajah's
mother and sisters came to visit the tomb, but they did not
see the Princess ; and in the evening when the sun was
setting, they went away. That night when the Chundun
Rajah came to life he called the Brahmin, and said to him,
" Is the Princess still here % " " Yes," he answered ; " for she
is weary with her journey, and she has no home to go to."
The Rajah said, " Since she has neither home nor friends, if
she be willing, you shall marry me to her, and she shall
wander no further in search of shelter." So the Brahmin
fetched his shastra* and called all his family as witnesses,
and married the Rajah to the little Princess, reading prayers
over them and scattering rice and flowers upon their heads.
And there the Chundun Ranee lived for some time. She

* Sacred books.

Chundun Rajah. 255

was very happy; she wanted nothing, and the Brahmin
and his wife took as much care of her as if she had been
their daughter. Every day she would wait outside the tomb,
but at sunset she ahvays returned to it and watched for her
husband to come to Hfe. One night she said to him,
*' Husband, I am happier to be your wife, and hold your
hand and talk to you for two or three hours every evening,
than were I married to some great living Rajah for a
hundred years. But oh ! what joy it would be if you could
come wholly to life again. Do you know what is the cause
of your daily death ? and what it is that brings you to life
each night at twelve o'clock?"

"Yes," he said, "it is because I have lost my Chundun
Har,* the sacred necklace that held my soul. A Peri stole
it. I was in the palace garden one day, when many of those
winged ladies flew over my head, and one of them when
she saw me, loved me, and asked me to marry her. But I
said no, I would not ; and at that she was angry, and tore
the Chundun Har off my neck, and flew away with it.
That instant I fell down dead, and my father and mother
caused me to be placed in this tomb ; but every night the
Peri comes here and takes my necklace off her neck, and
when she takes it off" I come to life again, and she asks me
to come away with her, and marry her, and she does not put
on the necklace again for two or three hours, waiting to see
if I will consent. During that time I live. But when she
finds I will not, she puts on the necklace again and flies
away, and as soon as she puts it on, I die."f " Cannot the
Peri be caught?" asked the Chundun Ranee, but her hus-

* Sandlewood necklace. t See Notes at the end.

256 Old Dec can Days.

band answered " No, I have often tried to seize back my
necklace— for if I could regain it I should come Avholly to
life again — but the Peri can at will render herself invisible,
and fly away with it, so that it is impossible for any mortal
man to get it." At this news the Chundun Ranee was sad
at heart, for she saw no hoj^e of the Rajah's being restored
to life ; and grieving over this she became so ill and un-
happy, that even when she had a little baby boy bom it did
not much cheer her, for she did nothing but think, " This
poor child will grow up in this desolate place and have no
kind father day by day to teach him and help him as other
children have, but only see him for a little while by night ;
and we are all at the mercy of the Peri, who may any day
fly quite away with the necklace and not return." The
Brahmin, seeing how ill she was, said to the Chundun
Rajah, "The Ranee will die unless she can be somewhere
where much care will be taken of her, for in my poor home
my wife and I can do but little for her comfort. Your
mother and sister are good and charitable, let her go to the
palace, where they will only need to see she is ill to take
care of her." Now it happened that in the palace courtyard
there was a great slab of white marble, on which the
Chundun Rajah would often rest on the hot summer days ;
and because he used to be so fond of it, when he died his
father and mother ordered that it should be taken great care
of, and no one was allowed to so much as touch it.
Knowing this, Chundun Rajah said to his wife, " You are
ill, I should like you to go to the palace, where my mother
and sisters will take the greatest care of you. Do this,
therefore — take our child and sit down with him upon the

Chiuidun Rajah. 257

great slab of marble in the palace courtyard. I used to be
very fond of it ; and so now for my sake it is kept with the
greatest care, and no one is allowed to so much as touch it.
They will most likely see you there and order you to go
away ; but if you then tell them you are ill, they will I know
have pity on you and befriend you." The Chundun Ranee
did as her husband told her ; placing her little boy on the
great slab of wTiite marble in the palace courtyard and sitting
down herself beside him. Chundun Rajah's sister, who was
looking out of the window, saw her and cried, " Mother,
there are a woman and her child resting on my brother's
marble slab ; let us tell them to go away." So she ran
down to the place ; but when she saw Chundun Ranee and
the little boy she was quite astonished. The Chundun
Ranee was so fair and loveable-looking, and the baby was
the image of her dead brother. Then returning to her
mother, she said, " Mother, she who sits upon the marble
stone is the prettiest little lady I ever saw ; and do not
let us blame the poor thing, she says she is ill and weary ;
and the baby (I know not if it is fancy, or the seeing
him on that stone) seems to me the image of my lost
brother."

At this the old Ranee and the rest of the family went out,
and when they saw the Chundun Ranee they all took such
a fancy to her and to the child that they brought her into
the palace, and were very kind to her, and took great care
of her; so that in awhile she got well and strong again,
and much less unhappy ; and they all made a gi-eat pet of
the little boy, for they were struck with his strange likeness
to the dead Rajah ; and after a time they gave his mother a

s

258 Old Dcccan Days.

small house to live in, close to the palace, where they often
used to go and visit her. There also the Chundun Rajah
would go each night when he came to life, to laugh and talk
with his wife, and play with his boy, although he still refused
to tell his father and mother of his existence. One day it
happened however, that the little child told one of the
Princesses (Chundun Pvajah's sister) how every evening some
one who came to the house used to laugh and talk with his
mother and play with him, and then go away. The Princess
also heard the sound of voices in the Chundun Ranee's
house, and saw lights flickering about there when they were
supposed to be fast asleep. Of this she told her mother,
saying, " Let us go down to-morrow night and see what this
means ; perhaps the woman we thought so poor, and be-
friended thus, is nothing but a cheat, and entertains all her
friends every night at our expense."

So the next evening they Avent doAvn softly, softly to the
place, when they saw — not the strangers they had expected,
but their long-lost Chundun Rajah. Then, since he could
not escape, he told them all. How that ever)^ night for an
hour or two he came to life, but Avas dead all day. And
they rejoiced gTeatly to see him again, and reproached him
for not letting them know he ever lived, though for so short
a time. He then told them how he had married the
Chundun Ranee, and thanked them for all their loving care
of her.

After this he used to come every night and sit and talk
with them ; but still each day, to their great sorrow, he died;
nor could they divine any means for getting back his
Chundun Har, which the Peri Avore round her neck.

Chun dan Rajah. 259

At last one evening, when they were all laughing and
chatting together, seven Peris flew into the room unob-
served by them, and one of the seven was the very Peri who
had stolen Chundun Rajah's necklace, and she held it in
her hand.

All the young Peris were very fond of the Chundun
Rajah and Chundun Ranee's boy, and used often to come
and play with him, for he was the image of his father's and
mother's loveliness, and as fair as the morning ; and he used
to laugh and clap his little hands when he saw them
coming ; for though men and women cannot see Peris, little
children can.

Chundun Rajah was tossing the child up in the air when
the Peris flew into the room, and the little boy was laughing
merrily. The winged ladies fluttered round the Rajah and
the child, and she that had the necklace hovered over his
head. Then the boy, seeing the glittering necklace which
the Peri held, stretched out his little arms and caught hold
of it ; and, as he seized it, the string broke, and all the
beads fell upon the floor. At this, the seven Peris were
frightened, and flew away, and the Chundun Ranee, col-
lecting the beads, strung them, and hung them round the
Rajah's neck; and there was great joy amongst those that
loved him, because he had recovered the sacred necklace,
and that the spell which doomed him to death was
broken.

The glad news was soon known throughout the kingdom,
and all the people were happy and proud to hear it, crying,
" We have lost our young Rajah for such a long, long time,
and now one little child has brought him back to life."

s 2

26o Cld Dcccan Days.

And the old Rajah and Ranee (Chundun Rajah's father and
mother), determined that he should be married again to the
Chundun Ranee with great pomp and splendour, and they
sent letters into all the kingdoms of the world, saying,
" Our son the Chundun Rajah has come to life again, and
we pray you come to his wedding."

Then, among those who accepted the invitation, were the
Chundun Ranee's seven brothers and their seven wives ;
and for her six sisters-in-law, who had been so cruel to her,
and caused her to be driven out into the jungle, the
Chundun Ranee prepared six common wooden stools ;
but for the seventh, who had been kind to her, she made
ready an emerald throne, and a footstool adorned with
emeralds.

When all the Ranees were taken to their places, the six
eldest complained, saying, " How is this ? Six of us are
given only common wooden stools to sit upon, but the
seventh has an emerald chair?" Then the Chundun
Ranee stood up, and before the assembled guests told them
her story, reminding her six elder sisters-in-law of their
former taunts, and how they had forbidden her to see them
again until the day of her marriage ^^^th the Chundun
Rajah, and she explained how unjustly they had accused
her to her brothers. When the Ranees heard this they
. were struck dumb with fear and shame, and were unable to
answer a word ; and all their husbands, being much enraged
to learn how they had conspired to kill their sister-in-law,
commanded that these wicked women should be instantly
hanged, which was accordingly done. Then, on the same
day that the Chundun Rajah re-niarried their sister, the six

Chundun Rajah.

261

elder brothers were married to six beautiful ladies of the
court, amid great and unheard of rejoicings, and from that
day they all lived together in perfect peace and harmony
unto their lives' end.

.^

<^l^-^

XXI.

SODEWA BAI.

Once upon a time there lived a Rajah and Ranee, who
had one only daughter, and she was the most beautiful
Princess in the world. Her face was as fair and delicate as
the clear moonlight, and they called her Sodewa Bai.* At
her birth her father and mother had sent for all the wise
men in the kingdom to tell her fortune, and they predicted
that she would grow up richer and more fortunate than any
other lady — and so it was ; for, from her earliest youth, she
was good and lovely, and whenever she opened her lips to
speak, pearls and precious stones fell upon the ground, and
as she walked along they would scatter on either side of her
path, insomuch that her father soon became the richest
Rajah in all that country — for his daughter could not go
across the room without shaking down jewels worth a
dowry. IMoreover, Sodewa Bai was born with a golden
necklace about her neck, concerning which also her parents
consulted astrologers, who said, " This is no common

* Tlie Lady Good Fortune.

Sodciva Bai. 263

child ; the necklace of gold about her neck contains your
daughter's soul ; let it therefore be guarded with the utmost
care ; for if it were taken off, and worn by another person, she
would die." So the Ranee, her mother, caused it to be firmly
fastened round the child's neck, and as soon as she was old
enough to understand, instructed her concerning its value,
and bade her on no account ever allow it to be taken off.

At the time my story begins, this Princess was fourteen
years old ; but she was not married, for her father and
mother had promised that she should not do so until it
pleased' herself; and although many great rajahs and
nobles sought her hand, she constantly refused them all.

Now Sodewa Bai's father, on one of her birthdays, gave
her a lovely pair of slippers, made of gold and jewels.
Each slipper was worth a hundred thousand gold mohurs.*
There were none like them in all the earth. Sodewa Bai
prized these slippers very much, and always wore them
when she went out walking, to protect her tender feet from
the stones ; but one day, as she was wandering with her
ladies upon the side of the mountain on which the palace
was built, playing, and picking the wild flowers, her foot
slipped and one of the golden slippers fell down, down,
down the steep hill slope, over rocks and stones, into the
jungle below. Sodewa Bai sent attendants to search for it,
and the Rajah caused criers to go throughout the town and
proclaim that whoever discovered the Princess' slipper
should receive a great reward ; but though it was hunted
for far and near, high and low, it could not be found.

It chanced, however, that not very long after this, a

264 Old Dcccan Days.

young Prince, the eldest son of a Rajah who lived in the
plains, was out hunting, and in the jungle he picked up the
very little golden slipper which Sodewa Bai had lost, and
which had tumbled all the v.-ay from the mountain side into
the depths of the forest. He took it home with him, and
showed it to his mother, saying, " What a fairy foot must
have worn this tiny slipper." "Ah, my boy," she said,
" this must have belonged to a lovely Princess, in tmth ; (if
she is but as beautiful as her slipper !) would that you could
find such a one to be your wife." Then they sent into all
the towns of the kingdom, to inquire for the owner of the
lost slipper ; but she could not be found. At last, when
many months had gone by, it happened that news was
brought by travellers to the Rajah's capital of how, in a far
distant land, \txy high among the mountains, there lived
a beautiful Princess who had lost her slipper, and whose
father had offered a great reward to whoever should restore
it j and from the description they gave, all were assured it
was the one that the Prince had found.

Then his mother said to him, " ]My son, it is certain that
the slipper you found belongs to none other than the great
INIountain Rajah's daughter ; therefore take it to his palace,
and when he offers you the promised reward, say that you
wish for neither silver nor gold, but ask him to give you his
daughter in marriage. Thus you may gain her for your
wife."

The Prince did as his mother advised ; and when, after
a long, long journey, he reached the court of Sodewa Bai's
father, he presented the slipper to him, saying, " I have
found your daughter's slipper, and, for restoring it, I claim

Sodciva Bai. 265

a great reward." "What will you have?" said the Rajah.
'^ Shall I pay you in horses? or in silver? or gold?"
" No," answered the Prince, " I will have none of these
things. I am the son of a Rajah who lives in the plains,
and I found this slipper in the jungle where I was hunting,
and have travelled for many weary days to bring it you ;
but the only payment I care for, is the hand of your beauti-
ful daughter ; if it pleases you, let me become your son-in-
law." The Rajah replied, " This only I cannot promise
you ; for I have vowed I will not oblige my daughter to
marry against her will. This matter depends upon her
alone. If she is willing to be your Avife, I also am willing ;
but it rests with her free choice." Now it happened that
Sodewa Bai had from her window seen the Prince coming
up to the palace gate, and when she heard his errand, she
said to her father, " I saw that Prince, and I am willing to
marry him." So they were married with great pomp and
splendour. When all the other Rajahs, Sodewa Bai's
suitors, heard of this, they were, however, much astonished,
as well as vexed, and said, " What can have made Sodewa
Bai take a fancy to that young Prince ! He is not so won-
derfully handsome, and he is very poor. This is a most
foolish marriage." But they all came to it, and were enter-
tained at the palace, where the wedding festivities lasted
many days. After Sodewa Bai and her husband had lived
there for some little time, he one day said to his father-in-
law, " I have a great desire to see my own people again,
and to return to my own country. Let me take my wife
home Avith me."

The Rajah said, " Very well. I am willing that you

266 Old Dcccan Days.

should go. Take care of your wife ; guard her as the apple
of your eye; and be sure you never peniiit the golden
necklace to be taken from her neck and given to any one
else, for in that case she would die." The Prince promised ;
and he returned with Sodewa Bai to his father's kingdom.
At their departure the Rajah of the Mountain gave them
many elephants, horses, camels, and attendants, besides
jewels innumerable, and much money, and many rich hang-
ings, robes, and carpets. The old Rajah and Ranee of the
Plain were delighted to welcome home their son and his
beautiful bride ; and there they might all have lived their
lives long in uninterrupted peace and happiness, had it
not been for one unfortunate circumstance. Rowjee (for
that was the Prince's name) had another wife, to whom he
had been married when a child, long before he had found
Sodewa Bai's golden slipper ; she, therefore, was the first
Ranee, though Sodewa Bai was the one he loved the best
(for the first Ranee was of a sullen, morose, and jealous
disposition). His father also, and his mother, preferred
Sodewa Bai to their other daughter-in-law. The first Ranee
could not bear to think of any one being Ranee beside
herself; and more especially of another, not only in the
same position, but better loved by all around than she ; and,
therefore, in her wicked heart, she hated Sodewa Bai and
longed for her destruction, though outwardly she pretended
to be very fond of her. The old Rajah and Ranee, knowing
of the first Ranee's jealous and envious disposition, never
liked Sodewa Bai to be much with her ; but as they had
only a vague fear, and no certain ground for alarm, they
could do no more than watch both, carefullv, and Sodev/a

Sodciva Bai. 267

Bai, who was guileless and unsuspicious, would remonstrate
with them when they warned her not to be so intimate with
Rowjee Rajah's other wife, saying, " I have no fear. T
think she loves me as I love her. Why should we disagree ?
Are we not sisters?" One day, Rowjee Rajah was obliged
to go on a journey to a distant part of his father's king-
dom, and being unable to take Sodewa Bai with him,
he left her in his parents' charge, promising to return
soon, and begging them to watch over her, and to go
every morning and see that she was well ; which they
agreed to do.

A little while after their husband had gone, the first
Ranee went to Sodewa Bai's room and said to her, " It is
lonely for us both, now Rowjee is away; but you must
come often to see me, and I will come often to see you and
talk to you, and so we will amuse ourselves as well as we
can." To this Sodewa Bai agreed ; and to amuse the first
Ranee, she took out all her jewels and pretty things to
show her. As they were looking over them, the first Ranee
said, " I notice you always wear that row of golden beads
round your neck. Why do you ? Have you any reason for
always wearing the same ones?" " Oh, yes," answered
Sodewa Bai, thoughtlessly. " I was born with these beads
round my neck, and the wise men told my father and
mother that they contain my soul, and that if any one else
wore them I should die. Therefore I always wear them.
I have never once taken them off." When the first Ranee
heard this news, she was very pleased ; yet she feared to.
steal the beads herself, both because she was afraid she
might be found out, and because she did not like with her

268 Old Dcccan Days.

own hands to commit the crime. So, returning to her
liouse, she called her most confidential servant, a negress,
whom she knew to bo tnistworthy, and said to her, " Go
this evening to Sodewa Bai's room, when she is asleep,
and take from her neck the string of golden beads, and
fasten them round your own neck, and return to me. Those
beads contain her soul, and as soon as you put them on, she
will cease to live." The negress agreed to do as she was
told; for she had long known that her mistress hated
Sodewa Bai, and desired nothing so much as her death. So
that night, going softly into the sleeping Ranee's room, she
stole the golden necklace, and fastening it round her own
neck, crept away without any one knowing what was done ;
and when the negress put on the necklace, Sodewa Bai's
spirit fled.

Next morning the old Rajah and Ranee went as usual to
see their daughter-in-law, and knocked at the door of her
room. No one answered. They knocked again, and again ;
still no reply. They then went in, and found her lying
there, cold as marble, and quite dead, though she seemed
very well when they had seen her before. They asked her
attendants, who slept just outside her door, whether she
had been ill that night, or if any one had gone into her
room? But they declared they had heard no sound, and
were sure no one had been near the place. In vain the
Rajah and Ranee sent for the most learned doctors in the
kingdom, to see if there was still any spark of life remain-
ing ; all said that the young Ranee was dead, beyond reach
of hope or help.

Then the Rajah and Ranee were very grieved, and

Sodczva Bai. 269

mourned bitterly; and because they desired that, if possible,
Rowjee Rajah should see his wife once again, instead of
burying her underground, they placed her beneath a canopy
in a beautiful tomb near a little tank,* and would go daily
to visit the place and look at her. Then did a wonder take
place, such as had never been known throughout the land
before ! Sodewa Bai's body did not decay, nor the colour
of her face change ; and a month after^vards, when her hus-
band returned home, she looked as fair and lovely as on the
night on which she died. There Avas a fresh colour in her
cheeks and on her lips ; she seemed to be only asleep.
When poor Rowjee Rajah heard of her death, he was so
broken-hearted they thought he also would die. He cursed
the evil fate that had obliged him to go away and deprive
him of hearing her last words, or bidding her farewell if he
could not save her life ; and from morning to evening he
would go to her tomb, and rend the air with his passionate
lamentations, and looking through the grating to where she
lay calm and still under the canopy, say, before he went
away, " I will take one last look at that fair face. To-
morrow Death may have set his seal upon it. Oh, loveliness,
too bright for earth ! Oh, lost, lost wife ! "

The Rajah and Ranee feared that he would die, cr go
mad, and they tried to prevent his going to the tomb ; but
all was of no avail ; it seemed to be the only thing he cared
for in life.

Now the negress who had stolen Sodewa Bai's necklace
used to wear it all day long, but late each night, on going
to bed, she would take it off, and put it by till next morn-
* Well.

2/0 Old Dcccan Days.

ing, and whenever she took it off Sodewa Bai's spirit
returned to her again, and she hved till day dawned and
the negress put on the necklace, when she again died. But
as the tomb was far from any houses, and the old Rajah
and Ranee, and Rowjee Rajah, only went there by day,
nobody found this out. When Sodewa Bai first came to
life in this way she felt very frightened to find herself there
all alone in the dark, and thought she was in prison ; but
afterwards she got more accustomed to it, and determined
when morning came to look about the place, and find her
way back to the palace, and recover the necklace she found
she had lost (for it would have been dangerous to go at
night through the jungles that surrounded the tomb, where
she could hear the wild beasts roaring all night long) ; but
morning never came, for whenever the negress awoke and
put on the golden beads Sodewa Bai died. However, each
night, when the Ranee came to life, she would walk to the
little tank by the tomb, and drink some of the cool water,
and return; but food she had none. Now no pearls or
precious stones fell from her lips, because she had no one
to talk to ; but each time she walked down to the tank she
scattered jewels on either side of her path ; and one day,
when Rowjee Rajah went to the tomb, he noticed all
these jewels, and thinking it very strange (though he never
dreamed that his wife could come to life), detemiined to
watch and see whence they came. But although he
watched and waited long, he could not find out the
cause, because all day long Sodewa Bai lay still and
dead, and only came to life at night. It was just at this
time, two whole months after she had been buried, and

Sodczm Bai. 271

the night after the very day that Rowjee Rajah had spent
in watching by the tomb, that Sodewa Bai had a httle
son ; but directly after he was born, day dawned, and the
mother died. The httle lonely baby began to cry, but no
one was there to hear him ; and, as it chanced, the Rajah
did not go to the tomb that day, for he thought, "All
yesterday I watched by the tomb and saw nothing ; instead,
therefore, of going to-day, I will wait till the evening, and
then see again if I cannot find out how the jewels came there."
So at night he went to the place. When he got there he
heard a faint cry from inside the tomb ; but what it was, he
knew not; perhaps it might be a Peri, or an evil spirit.
As he was wondering, the door opened, and Sodewa Bai
crossed the courtyard to the tank with a child in her arms,
and as she walked showers of jewels fell on bodi sides of
her path. Rowjee Rajah thought he must be in a dream ;
but when he saw the Ranee drink some water from the
tank and return towards the tomb, he sprang up and
hurried after her. Sodewa Bai, hearing footsteps follow her,
was frightened, and running into the tomb, fastened the
door. Then the Rajah knocked at it, saying, " Let me
in ; let me in." She answered, " Who are you ? Are you
a Rakshas, or a spirit ? " (For she thought, " Perhaps this
is some cruel creature who Avill kill me and the child.")
" No, no," cried the Rajah, " I am no Rakshas, but your
husband. Let me in, Sodewa Bai, if you are indeed alive."
No sooner did he name her name, than Sodewa Bai knew
his voice, and unbolted the door and let him in. Then,
v.'hen he saw her sitting on the tomb with the baby on her
lap, he fell down on his knees before her, saying, " Tell

272 Old Dcccan Days.

me, little wife, that this is not a dream." " No," she
answered, " I am indeed alive, and this our child was born
last night ; but every day I die ; for while you were away
some one stole my golden necklace."

Then for the first time Rowjee Rajah noticed that the
beads were no longer round her neck. So he bade her fear
nothing, for that he would assuredly recover them and return ;
and going back to the palace, which he reached in the early
morning, he summoned before him the whole household.

Then, upon the neck of the negress, servant to the first
Ranee, he saw Sodewa Bai's missing necklace, and seizing
it, ordered his guards to take the woman to prison. The
negress, frightened, confessed all that she had done by order
of the first Ranee, and how, at her command, she had stolen
the necklace. And when the Rajah learnt this, he ordered
that the first Ranee also should be imprisoned for life ; and
he and his fatlier and mother all went together to the
tomb, and placing the lost beads round Sodewa Bai's neck,
brought her and the child back in triumph with them to the
palace. Then, at news of how the young Ranee had been
restored to life, there was great joy throughout all that
country, and many days were spent in rejoicings in honour
of that happy event ; and for the rest of their lives the old
Rajah and Ranee, and Rowjee Rajah and Sodewa Bai, and
all the family, lived in health and happiness.

XXII.

CHANDRA'S VENGEANCE.

There was once a Sowkar's "■ wife who had no children ;
one day she went crying to her husband and saying, " What
an unhappy woman I am to have no children. If 1 had
any children to amuse me I should be quite happy." He
answered, " Why should you be miserable on that account
though you have no children your sister has eight or nine
why not adopt one of hers ? " The Sowkar's wife agreed
and, adopting one of her sister's little boys, who was only
six months old, brought him up as her own son. Some
time afterwards, when the child was one day returning from
school, he and one of his schoolfellows quarrelled and
began to fight, and the other boy (being much the older
and stronger of the two) gave him a great blow on the head
and knocked him down, and hurt him very much. The
boy ran crying home, and the Sowkar's wife bathed his

* Merchant's.

2/4 Old Dcccan Days.

head and bandaged it up, but she did not send and punish
the boy who hurt him, for she thought " One can't keep
children shut up always in the house, and they will be
fighting together sometimes and hurting themselves." Then
the child grumbled to himself, saying, " This is only my
aunt ; that is why she did not punish the other boy. If she
had been my mother she would certainly have given him a
great knock on his head, to punish him for knocking mine,
but because she is only my aunt, I suppose she doesn't
care." The Sowkar's -ivife overheard him, and felt very
grieved, saying, " This little child, whom I have watched
over from his babyhood, does not love me as if I were his
mother. It is of no use ; he is not my own, and he will
never care for me as such." So she took him home to his
own mother, saying, " Sister, I have brought you back your
child." "How is this?" asked her sister. " You adopted
him as yours for all his life, ^^'hy do you now bring him
back ? " The Sowkar's wife did not tell her sister what she
had heard the boy say, but she answered, " Very well,
let him be yours and mine, he shall live awhile with you,
and then come and visit me ; we will both take care of him."
And, returning to her husband, she told him what she had
done, saying, "All my pains are useless; you know how
kind I have been to my sister's boy, yet, after all I have done
for him, at the end of seven years he does not love me as well
as he does his mother, whom he has scarcely seen. Now, there-
fore, I will never rest until I have seen Mahadeo,* and asked
him to grant that I may have a child of my own." f

" What a foolish woman you are," answered her husband ;

* The Creator. f See Xotes at the end.

CJiandrds Vengeance. 275

" why not be content with your lot ? How do you think
you will find Mahadeo ? Do you know the road to heaven? "
" Nay," she replied, " but I will seek for it until I find it
out, and if I never find it, it cannot be helped, but I will
return home no more unless my prayer is answered." So
she left the house, and wandered into the jungle, and after
she had travelled through it for many, many days, and left
her own land very far behind, she came' to the borders of
another country, even the Madura Tinivelly* country,
where a great river rolled down towards the sea. On the
river bank sat two women — a Ranee named Coplinghee
Ranee, and a Nautch woman.t

Now, neither the Ranee, the Nautch woman, nor the
Sowkar's wife had ever seen each other before they met at
the river side. Then, as she sat down to rest and drink
some of the water, the Ranee turned to the Sowkar's wife,
and said to her, " Who are you, and where are you going ? "
She answered, " I am a Sowkar's wife from a far country,
and because I was very unhappy at having no children, I
am going to find Mahadeo and ask him to grant that I may
have a child of my own."

Then, in her turn, she said to the Ranee, " And pray
who are you, and where are you going ? " The Ranee
answered, " I am Coplinghee Ranee, queen of all this
country, but neither money nor riches can give me joy, for I
have no children, I therefore am going to seek Mahadeo
and ask him to grant that I may have a child." Then

* Two provinces of the JMadras Presidency, on the mainland opposite
Ceylon. They are famous in Hindoo Mythology.
f Dancing-woman,

T 2

276 Old Dixcau Days.

Coplingbee Ranee asked the Nautch woman the same
questio]!, saying, " And who may you be, and where are you
going ? " The Xautch woman answered, " I am a dancing
woman, and I also ha\"e no children, and am going to seek
Mahadeo and pray to him for a child." At hearing this, the
Sowkar's wife said, " Since we are all journeying on the same
errand why should we not go together ? " To this Coplinghee
Ranee and the Dancing-woman agreed, so they all three
continued their journey together through the jungle.

On, on, on they went, every day further and further ; they
never stayed to rest, nor saw another human being. Their
feet ached dreadfully, and their clothes wore out, and they
had nothing to live on but the jungle-plants, wild berries
and seeds. So weary and worn did they become that they
looked like three poor old beggar-women. Ne^"er had they
by night-time sleep nor by day-time rest ; and so, hour after
hour, month after month, year after year, they travelled on.

At last, one day, they came to where, in the midst of the
jungle, there rolled a great river of fire. It was the biggest
river they had ever seen, and made of flames instead of
water. There was no one on this side and no one on
that ; no way of getting across but by walking through the fire.

"When Coplinghee Ranee and the Nautch woman saw
this, they said, " Alas ! here is the end of all our pains and
trouble. All hope is over, for we can go no further." But
the Sowkar's wife answered, " Shall we be deterred by this,
after having come so far ? Nay, rather seek a way across
the fire." And, so saying, she stepped into the fire waves ;
the others, however, were afraid, and would not go. When
the Sowkar's wife had half crossed the river of fire, she

Chandra s Vcngca7ice. 277

turned, and waving her hands towards them, said, " Come
on, come on, do not be afraid. The fire does not burn me.
I go to find Mahadeo ; perhaps he is but the other side." "
But they still refused, saying, " ^^'e cannot come, but we
will wait here until you return ; and if you find Mahadeo,
pray for us also, that we may have children."

So the Sowkar's wife went on her way, and the fire waves
lapped round her feet as if they had been water, but they
did not hurt her.

When she reached the other side of the river she came
upon a great wilderness, full of wild elephants, and of bison,
and lions, and tigers, and bears, that roared and growled on
every side. But she did not turn back for fear of them, for
she said to herself, " I can but die once, and it is better
that they should kill me, than that I should return without
finding Mahadeo." And all the wild beasts allowed her to
pass through the midst of them and did her no harm.

Now it came to pass that IMahadeo looked down from
heaven and saw her, and when he saw her he pitied her
greatly, for she had been twelve years wandering upon the
face of the earth to find him. Then he caused a beautiful
mango tree, beside a fair well, to spring up in the desert to
give her rest and refreshment, and he himself, in the
disguise of a Gosain Fakeer,| came and stood by the tree.
But the Sowkar's wife would not stay to gather the fnait or
drink the water ; she did not so much as notice the Fakeer,
but walked straight on, in her weary search for Mahadeo.
Then he called after her, " Bai, bai,| where are you going ?
Come here." She answered, scarcely looking at him, " It

* See Notes at the end. f A religious mendicant. J Woman, woman.

278 Old Dcccan Days.

matters not to you, Fakeer, where I am going. You tell
your prayer beads, and leave me alone." " Come here,"
he cried ; " come here." But she would not, so ]\Iahadeo
went and stood in front of her, no longer disguised as
a Fakeer, but shining brightly, the Lord of Kylas"' in all
his beauty, and at the sight of him the poor Sowkar's wife
fell down on the ground and kissed his feet, and he said to
her, " Tell me, Bai, where are you going ? " She answered,
"Sir, I seek Mahadeo, to pray him to grant that I may
have a child, but for twelve years I have looked for him in
vain." He said, " Seek no further, for I am ■Nlahadeo ; take
this mango," and he gathered one off the tree that grew by
the well, '"■and eat it, and it shall come to pass that when you
return home you shall have a child." Then she said, " Sir,
three women came seeking you, but two stayed by the river of
fire, for they were afraid ; may not they also have children ? "

" If you will," he answered, " you may give them some
of your mango, and then they also w'ill each have a child."

So saying he faded from her sight, and the Sowkar's wife
returned, glad and joyful, through the wilderness and the
river of fire, to where the Ranee and the Dancing-woman
were waiting for her on the other side. When they saw her,
they said, " ^^'ell, Sowkar's wife, what news ? " She
answered, " I have found Mahadeo, and he has given me
this mango, of which if we eat we shall each have a child."
And she took the mango, and squeezing it gave the juice to
the Ranee, and the skin she gave to the Nautch woman,
and the pulp and the stone she ate herself

Then these three w^omen returned to their own homes ;
* The Hindoo Heaven.

Chandra s Vengeance. 279

Coplinghee Ranee and the Dancing- woman to the Madura
Tinivelly country, and the Sowkar's wife to very, very far
beyond that, even the land Avhere her husband lived, and
whence she had first started on her journey.

But, on their return, all their friends only laughed at
them, and the Sowkar said to his wife, " I cannot see much
good in your mad twelve years' journey; you only come back
looking like a beggar, and all the world laughs at you."

"I don't care," she answered"; "I have seen INIahadeo,
and eaten of the mango, and I shall have a child."

And within a while it came to pass that there was born to
the Sowkar and his wife a little son, and on the very same
day Coplinghee Ranee had a daughter, and the Nautcli
woman had a daughter.

Then were they all very happy, and sent everywhere to
tell their friends the good news ; and each gave, according
to her power, a great feast to the poor, as a thank-offering
to Mahadeo, who had been merciful to them. And the
Sowkar's wife called her son " Koila," '"' in memory of the
mango stone ; and the Nautch woman called her daughter
" Moulee ; " \ and the little Princess was named Chandra
Bai,J for she was as fair and beautiful as the white moon.

Chandra Ranee Avas very beautiful, the most beautiful
child in all that country, so pretty and delicately made that
everybody, when they saw her, loved her. She was born,
moreover, with, on her ancles, two of the most costly
anclets that ever were seen. They were made of gold
and very precious stones, dazzling to look at, like the

* He of the mango stone. + From the sweet mango pulp.

X Or, The Moon Lady.

28o Old Dcccan Days.

sun. No one had ever seen any like them before. Every
day as the baby grew, these bangles gi'ew, and round them
were little bells, which tinkled when any one came near.
Chandra's parents were \txj happy and proud, and sent for
all the Avise men in the kingdom to tell her fortune. But the
most learned Brahmin of them all, when he saw her, said,
" This child must be sent out of the country at once, for if
she stays in it she will destroy all the land with fire, and
bum it utterly."

The Rajah, at hearing these words, was ytyy angr)-, and
said to the Brahmin, " I will cut off your head, for you tell
lies and not the truth." The Brahmin answered, " Cut off
my head if you will, but it is the truth I speak, and no lie. If
you do not believe me, let a little wool be fetched, and put
it upon the child, that you may know my words are true."

So they fetched some avooI and laid it upon the baby,
and no sooner had they done so, than it all blazed up and
burnt till not a bit was left, and it scorched the hands of the
attendants.

Then the Brahmin said, " As this fire has burnt the wool,
so will this Princess one day, if she comes here, bum this
whole land." And they were all verj' much frightened, and
the Rajah said to the Ranee, " This being so, the child
must be sent out of the countrj- instantly." The poor
Ranee thereat was very sad, and she did all in her power to
save her little baby, but the Rajah would not hear of it,
and commanded that the Princess should be placed in a
large box, and taken to the borders of b.is land, where
a great river rolled down to the sea, and there thrown into
the stream, that it might carry her far, far away, each

Chandra s Vengeance. 281

minute fartlier from her native laud.* Tlien the Ranee
caused a beautiful golden box to be made, and put her little
baby in it, with many tears, (since all her efforts to save it v^^ere
of no avail), and it was taken away and thrown into the river.

The box floated on, and on, and on, until at last it
reached the country where the Sowkar and the Sowkar's
wife lived. Now it chanced that, just as the box was
floating by, the Sowkar, who had gone down to the river to
wash his face, caught sight of it, and seeing a fisherman not
far off, prepared to throw his net into the water, he cried,
" Run, Fisherman, run, run, do not stop to fish, but cast
your net over that glittering box and bring it here to me."

" I will not, unless you promise me that the box shall be
mine," said the Fisherman., " Very well," answered the
Sowkar; "the box shall be yours, and whatever it contains
shall belong to me."

So the Fisherman cast his net in that part of the river,
and dragged the box ashore.

I don't know which was most astonished, the Merchant or
the Fisherman, when they saw what a prize they had found.
For the box was composed entirely of gold and precious
stones, and within it lay the most lovely little child that
ever was seen.

She seemed a little Princess, for her dress was all made
of cloth of gold, and on her feet were two anclets that
shone like the sun.

When the Sowkar opened the box, she smiled, and
stretched out her little arms towards him. Then he was
pleased, and said, " Fisherman, the box is yours, but this

* See Notes at the end.

282 Old Dcccan Days.

child must belong to me." The Fisherman was content
that it should be so, for he had many children of his own at
home, and wanted no more, but was glad to have the
golden box ; v/hile the Sowkar, who had only his one little
son, and was rich, did not care for the box, but was well
pleased to have the baby.

He took her home to his wife, and said, " .See, wife, here
is a pretty little daughter-in-law for us. Here is a wife for
your little son." And when the Sowkar's wife saw the child
looking so beautiful and smiling so sweetly, her heart was
glad, and she loved her, and from that day took the greatest
care of her, just as if the baby-girl had been her own
daughter. And when Chandra Ranee was a year old, they
man-ied her to their son, Koila.

Years wore on, and the Sowkar and his wife were in a
good old age gathered to their fathers. Meantime, Koila
and Chandra had grown up the handsomest couple in all
the country : Koila tall and straight, with a face like a young
lion, and Chandra as lithe and graceful as a palm tree, with
a face calm and beautiful like the silver moonlight.

Meantime " Moulee,"' the Nautch woman's daughter (and
third of the Mango children), had likewise grown up, in the
Madura Tinivelly country, and Avas also very fair, fairer than
any one in all the land around. Moreover, she danced and
sang more beautifully than any of the other Xautch girls.
Her voice was clear as the voice of a quail, and it rang
through the air with such power that the sound could be
heard a twelve days' journey off. The Xautch people used
to travel about from place to place, staying one day in one
town and the next in another, and so it happened that in

Chandra s Vengeance. 283

their wanderings they reached the borders of the land where
Koila and Chandra lived.

One morning Koila heard the sound of singing in the
distance, and it pleased him so well that he determined to
try and discover who it was that possessed such an exquisite
voice. For twelve days he journeyed on through the
jungle, each day hearing the singing repeated louder and
louder, yet still without reaching the place whence it came.
At last, on the twelfth day, he got close to the Nautch
people's encampment, not far from a large town, and there
saw the singer (who was none other than Moulee), singing
and dancing in the midst of a great crowd of people who
had collected around her. In her hand she held a garland of
flowers, which she waved over her head as she danced.

Koila was so charmed with the sound of her voice that he
felt spell-bound, and stood where he was, far off on the
outskirts of the jungle, listening, without going any nearer.

When the entertainment was over, all the people crowded
round Moulee, saying, " Why should you, who have such a
beautiful voice, go away and leave our city ? Marry one of
us, and then you will stay here always." Then, the number
of her suitors being so great that she did not know whom to
choose, she said, " Very well, he on whose neck this garland
falls, shall be my husband." And waving the flowers she
held two or three times round her head, she threw them
from her with her utmost force.

The impetus given to the garland was so great that it
swung through the air beyond the crowd and fell upon the
neck of Koila as he stood by the borders of the jungle.
All the people ran to see who was the fortunate possessor,

284 Old Dixcan Days.

and when they saw Koila they were astonished, for he
looked more beautiful than any of the sons of men, it v\'as
as if an Immortal had suddenly come among them. And
the Nautch people dragged him back to their camp, crying,
" You have won the garland ; you must be Moulee's.
husband." He answered, " I only came here to look on ; I
cannot stay. This is not my countiy ; I have a wife of my
own at home." " That is nothing to us," they said, " it is
your destiny to marry Moulee, Moulee the beautiful one,
Moulee whose voice you heard, and who dances so well.
You must marry her, for the garland fell on you."

Now so it was, that though Koila was very kind to his
Avife, he did not love her as well as she loved him, (perhaps
it was that having been accustomed to her from a child,
Chandra's goodness and beauty struck him less than jt did
other people,) and instead of thinking how unhappy she
would be if he did not return, and going back at once, he
stopped, and hesitated, and debated what to do. And the
Nautch people gave him a drink that was a very powerful
spell, insomuch that he soon totally forgot about his own
home, and was married to Moulee, the Nautch girl, and
lived among the Nautch people for many months, At last,,
one day, Moulee's mother (the very Nautch woman who
had gone with Coplinghee Ranee and the Sowkar's wife to
find Mahadeo) said to Koila, " Son-in-law, you are a lazy
fellow ; you have been here now for a long time, but you do
nothing for your support ; it is we who have to pa}- for your
food, we who have to provide your clothes — go now and
fetch us some money, or I will turn you out of the house
and you shall never see your wife Moulee again." Koila

CI I and I'd s Vengeance. 285

had no money to give his mother-in-law, then, for the first
time, he bethought him of his own country and of Chandra,
and he said, " I\'Iy first ^\•ife, who hves in my own country,
has on her feet two bangles of very great value ; let me
return home and fetcli one of them to sell, v.hich will more
than pay whatever I owe you." The Nautch people con-
sented. So Koila returned to his own home, and told
Chandra what he wanted the money for, and asked her to
let him have one of her bangles, but she refused, saying,
" You have been away a long, long time and left me all alone,
and chosen for your second wife one of the Nautch people,
and become one of them, and now you want to take one of
my bangles, the. bangles that I had when a little child, that
have grown with my growth, and never been taken off; and
to give it to your other wife. This shall not be ; go back if
you will to your new friends, but I will not give you my
bangle."

He answered, " They gave me an enchanted drink which
made me forget you for a time, but I am weary of them all ;
let me but go and pay my mother-in-law the money I owe
her for food and clothes, and I will return and live in my
own land, for you are my first wife."

" Very well," she said, " you may take the bangle and
sell it, and give the money to your second wife's mother,
but take me also with you when you go ; do not leave me
here all alone again." Koila agreed, and they both set off
together towards the Madura Tinivelly country.

As they journeyed, Krishnaswami,* who was playing at
cards with his three wives, saw them, and when he saw

* The Hindoo god Krishna ; an incarnation of Vishnu.

286 Old Dcccan Days.

them he lauglied. Then his wives said to him, " Why do
you laugh ? You have not laughed for such a long time,
what amuses you so much now?" He answered, " I am
laughing to see Koila and his wife Chandra Ranee, journey-
ing towards the IMadura Tinivelly country. He is going to
sell his Vv'ife's bangle, and he will only be killed, and then
slie in anger will burn up all the countiy. Oh, foolish
people : " The goddesses answered, " This is a very
dreadful thing ; let us go in disguise, and warn him not to
enter the country.'' " It would be useless," said Krishna-
swami; "if you do he will only laugh at you and get angry
with you." But the goddesses determined to do their best
to avert the threatened calamity. So they disguised them-
selves as old fortune-tellers, and v/ent out with little lamps
and their sacred books, to meet Koila as he came along the
road followed by his wife. Then they said to him, " Come
not into the jNIadura Tinivelly countiy, for if you come you
will be killed, and your wife in her fury will burn all the
land with fire." At first, Koila would not listen to them ;
then he bade them go away ; and lastly, when they con-
tinued warning him, got angry, and beat them out of his
path, saying, " Do you think I am to be frightened out of
the country by a parcel of old crones like you ? "

Then Krishnaswami's three wives returned to him, much
enraged at the treatment they had received, but he only
said to them, " Did not I tell you not to go, warning you
that it would be useless ? "

On getting near the Rajah's capital, Koila and Chandra
came to the house of an old milk-seller, who was very kind
to them, and gave them food and shelter for the night.

CJiandras Vengeance. 287

Next morning Koila said to his wife, " You had better stay-
here ; this good old woman will take care of you, while I go
into the town to sell your bangle." Chandra agreed, and
remained at the old woman's house while her husband went
into the town. Of course he did not know that the Rajah
and his wife (the Coplinghee Ranee) were Chandra's father
and mother, any more than they, or Chandra herself, knew
it, or than the three Mango children knew the story of their
mothers' journey in search of Mahadeo.

Now a short time before Koila and Chandra reached the
Madura Tinivelly country, Coplinghee Ranee had sent a
very handsome pair of bangles to a Jeweller in the town to
be cleaned. It chanced that in a high tree close to the
Jeweller's house two eagles had built their nest, and the
young eagles, who were very noisy birds, used to scream all
day long, and greatly disturb the Jeweller's family. So one
day when the old birds were away, the Jeweller's son
climbed up the tree, and pulled down the nest, and put the
young eagles to death. When the old birds returned home
and saw what was done, it grieved them very much, and
they said, " These cruel people have killed our children, let
us punish them." And seeing in the porch one of Coplinghee
Ranee's beautiful bangles, which the Jeweller had just been
cleaning, they swooped down and flew away with it.*

The Jeweller did not know what to do ; he said to his
wife, " To buy such a bangle as that, would cost more than
all our fortune, and to make one like it would take many,
many years ; I dare not say I have lost it, or they would
think I had stolen it, and put me to death. The only thing

* See Notes at the end..

288 Old Dcrcan Days.

I can do is to delay returning the other as long as possible,
and tr}^ somehow to get one like it." So next day when the
Ranee sent to inquire if her bangles were ready, he answered,
"They are not ready yet ; they will be ready to-morrow."
And the next day, and the next, he said the same thing.
At last the Ranee's messengers got very angry at the
continued delays ; then, seeing he could no longer make
excuses, the Jeweller sent the one bangle by them to the
palace, beautifully cleaned, with a message that the other
also would shortly be ready, but all this time he was hunting
for a bangle costly enough to take the Ranee as a substitute
for the one the eagles had carried away. Such a bangle,
however, he could not find.

When Koila reached the town, he spread out a sheet in
the corner of a street near the market-place, and, placing the
bangle upon it, sat down close by, waiting for customers.
Now, he was ver)", very handsome. Although dressed so
plainly, he looked like a Prince, and the bangle he had to sell
flashed in the morning light like seven suns. Such a handsome
youth, and such a beautiful bangle, the people had never
seen before ; and many passers-by, with chattees* on their
heads, for watching him, let the chattees tumble down and
break, they were so much astonished ; and several men and
women, who were looking out of the windows of their
houses, leant too far forward, and fell into the street, so
giddy did they become from wonder and amazement I

But no one could be found to buy the bangle, for they all
said, " We could not afford to buy such jewels ; this bangle
is fit only for a Ranee to wear." At last, when the day had
* Jars.

Chandra's Vengeance. 289

nearly gone, who should come by, but the Jeweller who had
been employed to clean Coplinghee Ranee's bangles, and
was in search of one to replace that which the eagles had
stolen. No sooner did he see the one belonging to Chandra,
which Koila was trying to sell, than he said to himself,
" That is the very thing I want, if I can only get it." So
he called his wife, and said to her, " Go to that bangle-
seller and speak kindly to him, say that the day is
nearly gone, and invite him to come and lodge at our
house for the night. For if we can make friends with
him and get him to trust us, I shall be able to take the
bangle from him, and say he stole it from me. And as he
is a stranger here, every one will believe my word rather
than his. This bangle is exactly the very thing for me to
take Coplinghee Ranee, for it is very like her own, only
more beautiful."

The Jeweller's wife did as she was told, and then the
Jeweller himself went up to Koila and said to him, " You
are a bangle-seller, and I am a bangle-seller ; therefore I
look upon you as a brother. Come home, I pray you, with
us, as my wife begs you to do, and we will give you food
and shelter for the night, since you are a stranger in this
country." So these cunning people coaxed Koila to go
home with them to their home, and pretended to be very
kind to him, and gave him supper, and a bed to rest on for
the night ; but next morning early the Jeweller raised a hue
and cry, and sent for the police, and bade them take Koila
before the Rajah instantly, since he had stolen and tried to
sell one of Coplinghee Ranee's bangles, which he (the
Jeweller) had been given to clean. It was in vain that

u

290 Old Dcccan Days.

Koila protested his innocence, and declared that the bangle
he had belonged to his wife ; he was a stranger — nobody
would believe him. They dragged him to the palace, and
the Jeweller accused him to the Rajah, saying, " This man
tried to steal the Ranee's bangle, (which I had been given to
clean) and to sell it. If he had done so you Avould have
thought I had stolen it, and killed me ; I demand, therefore,
that he in punishment shall be put to death."

Then they sent for the Ranee to show her the bangle, but
as soon as she saAV it she recognised it as one of the bangles
which had belonged to Chandra, and burst into tears,
crying " This is not my bangle. Oh, my lord, no jeweller
on earth made this bangle ! See, it is different to mine ; and
when any one comes near it, it tinkles, and all the little
bells begin to ring. Have you forgotten it ? This
was my beauty's bangle ! My diamond's ! ]\Iy little dar-
ling's ! My lost child's ! Where did it come from ? How
did it come here ? How into this land, and into this town
and bazaar, among these wicked people? For this Jeweller
must have kept my bangle and brought this one in its place.
No human goldsmith's hands made this ; for it is none other
than Chandra's." Then she begged the Rajah to inquire
further about it.

But they all thought her mad ; and the Jeweller said,
" It is the Ranee's fancy, for this is the same bangle she
gave me to clean." The other people also agreed that both
the bangles were almost exactly alike, and must be a pair ;
and it being certain that Koila had had the bangle when he
was seized by the police, the Rajah ordered him to be in-
stantly executed. But the Ranee took Chandra's bangle

Chandra's Vengcaiicc. 291

and locked it away in a strong cupboard, apart from all her
other jewels.

Then they took Koila out into the jungle and would
have cut off his head, but he said to his guards, " If I must
die, let me die by my own hands," and drawing his sword
he fell upon it, and as the sword was very sharp it cut his
body in two — one half fell on one side of the sword, and
the other half on the other side — and they left his body
where it fell.

When news of what had taken place came to the town,
many people who had seen Koila selling his bangle the day
before, began to murmur, saying " There must be some in-
justice here — the Rajah has been over-hasty. Most likely
the poor man did not steal the bangle. It is not likely that
he would have tried to sell it openly before us all in the
bazaar, if it had been stolen property. How cruel of the
Rajah to put such a handsome, gentle, noble-looking youth
to death — and he was a stranger, too ! " And many wept
at thought of his hard fate. When the Rajah heard of this
he was very angry, and sent and commanded that the matter
should be no further discussed in the town, saying, " If any
one speaks another word of what has been done, or laments
or sheds tears for the dead, he shall be instantly hanged."
Then the people all felt very frightened, and not a soul
dared to speak of Koila, though eveiy one thought about
him much.

Early the very morning that this happened, the old milk-
seller (at whose house, which was a little out of the town,
Chandra had been sleeping), took her guest a bowl full of
milk to drink ; but no sooner had Chandra tasted it than

u 2

292 Old Dcccan Days.

she began to cry, saying, " Good mother, wliat have you
done? my mouth is full of blood!" "Xo, no, my
daughter," answered the old vroman ; " you must have been
dreaming some bad dream. See, this is pure, firesh, warm,
milk I have brought you ; drink again." But when Chandra
tasted it for the second time, she answered, " Oh no ! Oh
no ! it is not milk that I taste, but blood. All last night I
had a dreadful dream, and this morning w-hen I woke I
found that my marriage necklace had snapped in two ; and
now this milk tastes to me as blood. Let me go ! let me
go ! for I know my husband is dead."

The good old woman tried to comfort her, saying, " Why
should you fancy he is dead ? he was quite well yesterday,
when he went to sell your bangle ; and he said he would
come back to you soon ; in a little while, very likely, he will
be here." But she answered, " No, no ; I feel sure that he
is dead I Oh, let me go ! for I must find him before I die."
Then the old woman said, " You must not go ; you are too
beautiful to run about through the streets of this strange
town alone ; and your husband would be very angry if he
saw you doing so, and who knows but that you might lose
your way, and get carried off as a slave \ remember, he told
you to stay here till he returned. Be patient ; remain
where you are, and I will go quickly into the town and
seek your husband. If he is alive I will bring him back to
you, and if he is dead I will bring you word." So, taking a
chattee* full of milk on her head, as if to sell, she went to
the town to find Koila, while everj' minute seemed an hour
to Chandra, until her return.

^ Jar.

Chandrcis Vengeance. 293

When the old milk-seller reached the town, she went up
and down all the streets, looking for Koila, or expecting to
hear some one mention the handsome stranger who had
gone to sell such a wonderful bangle tlie day before. But
she could not find him, nor did she hear him spoken of;
for all were afraid to say a word about him on account of
the Rajah's decree. Being unable to trace him the old
woman got suspicious, and began to searcli, more carefully
than before, down all the streets near the market-place,
where she thought he was most likely to have gone ; but,
lest people should wonder at her errand, she called out
each time as if she had some different thing to sell First,
" Buy some milk — who'll buy milk — who'll buy ? " Then, on
going for a second time down the same street, " Buy butter
— butter ! very fine butter ! " and so on. At last one
woman, who had been watching her with some curiosity,
said, " Old woman, what nonsense you talk ! )^ou have been
half-a-dozen times up and down this same street, as if you
had half-a-dozen different things to sell in that one chattee.
Anyone would think you had as little sense as that pretty
young bangle-seller yesterday, who spent all the day trying
to sell it, and got put to death for his pains."

" Of whom do you speak ? " asked the old woman.
" Oh ! " said the other, " I suppose as you're a milk-seller
from the country you know nothing about it. But that's
not to be talked about, for the Rajah has said that whoever
speaks of him, or mourns him, shall be instantly hanged.
Ah ! he was very handsome."

" Where is he now ? " whispered the old woman.
" There," answered the other ; " you can see the place

\^^

294 0/d Dcccan Days.

A\here that crowd of people has collected. The Rajah's
Jeweller accused hhu of having stolen the bangle ; so he
was executed ; many thought unjustly, but do not say I
said it." And so saying, she pointed towards the jungle
some way off. The old woman ran to the place ; but when
she there saw the two halves of Koila's body lying side by
side, stiff and cold, she threw her earthen chattee down on
the ground, and fell on her knees, crying bitterly. The
noise attracted the attention of the Rajah's guards, some of
whom immediately seized her, saying, " Old woman, it is
against the law to lament that dead man, or murmur at the
Rajah's decree ; you deserve to be put to death." But she
answered quickly, " The dead man ! I do not cry for the
dead man ; can you not see that my chattee is broken, and
all the milk spilt. Is it not enough to make one weep ? "
And she began to cry again. " Hush ! hush ! " they an-
swered ; " don't cry ; come, the chattee wasn't worth much ;
it was only an earthen thing. Stop your tears, and may-be
we'll give you a chattee of gold."

" I neither ca,re for your golden chattees, nor for silver,"
she said, angrily. " Go away ; go away ! my earthen
chattee was worth them all. My grandfather's grandfather,
and my grandmother's grandmother used this chattee ; and
to think that it should now be broken and all the milk
spilt." And picking up the broken pieces, she went home
sobbing, as if the loss of her chattee was all her grief. But
when she got to her own house, she ran into where
Chandra was, cr}dng, " Alas ! my pretty child ! alas, my
daughter ! your fears are true ! " and as gently as she could
she told her what had happened.

Chandra's Vengeance. 295

No sooner did Chandra hear it than she ran away-
straight to the Rajah's Palace in the midst of the town, and
rushing into the room where he was, said, " How did you
dare to kill my husband ? "

Now, at the sound of her voice, her bangle, which the
Ranee had locked up in the cupboard, broke through all
the intervening doors, and rolled to Chandra's feet.

The Rajah was unable to answer her a word. Then she
fell on her knees, and rent her clothes, and tore her hair ;
and w^hen she tore it all the land began to burn, and all her
hair burned too.

Then the old milk-seller, who had followed her, ran and
put a lump of butter on her head, thinking to cool it ; and
two other women who were by, fetched water to pour upon
her hair, but by this time nineteen lines of houses were in
flames. Then the old woman cried, " Oh ! spare the Pur-
wari* lines ; don't burn them down, for I did all I could
for you." So Chandra did not burn that part of the town
near which the old woman and her friends lived. But the
fire burnt on and on in the other direction ; and it killed
the Rajah and the Ranee, and all the people in the palace ;
and the wicked Jeweller and his wife — and, as he was dying,
Chandra tore out his heart and gave it to the eagles who
hovered overhead, saying, *' Here is vengeance for the
death of your little ones." And the Nautch girl, INIoulee,
and her mother, who were watching the fire from far off",
were smothered in the flames.f

* Or outcast's ; literally, "the extra-muralist's," i.e., the houses of
the lowest classes, not permitted to live withiu the city walls,
t See Notes at the end.

296

Old Dcccan Days.

Then Chandra went to where Koila's dead body lay, and
wept over it bitterly \ and as she was weeping, there fell
down to her from heaven a needle and thread ; and she
took them, saying, " Oh, that I could by any means restore
you ! " and, placing the two halves of his body side by side,
she sewed them together.

And when she had done this, she cried to Mahadeo, say
ing, " Sire, I have done the best I can ; I have joined the
body ; give it life." And as she said these words Mahadeo
had pity on her, and he sent Koila's spirit back, and it
returned to his body again. Then Chandra was glad, and
they returned and lived in their own land.

But to this day in the Mahdura Tinivelly countr}- you can
trace where all the land was burnt.

XXIII.

HOW THE THREE CLEVER MEN OUT-
WITTED THE DEMONS.

There was once upon a time a very rich man who had
a very beautiful wife, and this man's chief amusement used
to be shooting with a bow and arrow, at which he was so
clever, that every morning he would shoot through one of
the pearls in his wife's nose-ring without hurting her at all.*
One fine day, that was a holiday, the Pearlshooter's brother-
in-law came to take his sister to their father and mother's
house to pay her own family a little visit ; and when he saw
her, he said, " Why do you look so pale, and thin, and
miserable ? is your husband unkind to you, or what is the
matter?" "No," she answered; "my husband is very
kind to me, and I have plenty of money, and jewels, and as
nice a house as I could wish ; my only grief is that every
morning he amuses himself by shooting one of the pearls
from my nose-ring, and that frightens me; for I think
perhaps some day he may miss his aim, and the arrow run
into my face and kill me. So I am in constant ten'or of
my life ; yet I do not hke to ask him not to do it, because
* See Notes at the end.

298 Old Dcccan Days.

it gives him so much pleasure ; but if he left off of his own
accord I should be very glad." " What does he say to you
himself about it ? " asked the brother. " Every day," she
replied, "when he has shot the pearl, he comes to me quite
happy and proud, and says, 'Was there ever a man as
clever as I am ? ' and I answer him, * No, I do not think
there ever was any as clever as you.'" " Do not say so
again," said the brother ; " but next time he asks you
the question, answer, ' Yes, there are many men in the
world more clever than you.' " The Pearlshooter's wife
promised to take her brother's advice. So, next time her
husband shot the pearl from her nose-ring, and said to her,
" Was there ever a man as clever as I am ? " she an-
swered, " Yes, there are many men in the world more
clever than you." Then he said, " If so be that there are
I will not rest until I have found them." And he left her,
and went a far journey into the jungle in order to find, if
possible, a cleverer man than himself. On, on, on, he
journeyed a very long way, until at last he came to a large
river, and on the river bank sat a traveller eating his dinner.
The Pearlshooter sat down beside him, and the two began
conversing together. At last, the Pearlshooter said to his
friend, " What is the reason of your journey, and where are
you going ? " The stranger answered, " I am a Wrestler,
and the strongest man in all this country ; I can do many
wonderful things in the way of wrestling and canydng heavy
weights, ana I began to think that in all this world there
was no one so clever as I ; but I have lately heard of a still
more wonderful man who lives in a distant countrj', and
who is so clever, that ever)^ morning he shoots one of the

How the Three Clever Men Outioitted the Demons. 299

pearls from his wife's nose-ring without hurting her. So I
go to find him, and learn if this is true." The Pearlshooter
answered, " Then you need travel no further, for I am that
man of whom you heard." "Why are you travelling about
then, and where are you going ? " asked the Wrestler.
" I," rephed the other, " am also travelling to see if in all
the world I can find a cleverer man than myself; there-
fore, as we have both the same object in view, let us be as
brothers, and go about together ; perhaps there is still in
the world a better man than we." The Wrestler agreed ;
so they both started on their way together. They had not
gone veiy far before they came to a place where three roads
met, and there sat another man whom neither of them had
ever seen before. He accosted the Wrestler and the Pearl-
shooter and said to them, " Who are you, friends, and where
are you going ? " " We," answered they, " are two clever
men, who are travelling through the world to see if we can
find a cleverer man than we ; but who may you be, and
where are you going ? " " I," replied the third man, " am a
Pundit,* a man of memory, renowned for my good head, a
great thinker ; and verily I thought there was not in the
world a more wonderful man than I ; but having heard of
two men in distant lands of very great cleverness, the one of
whom is a Wrestler, and the other a shooter of Pearls from
his wife's nose-ring, I go to find them and learn if the things
I heard are true." " They are true," said the other ; " for
we, O Pundit, are the very two men of whom you speak."

At this news the Pundit was overjoyed, and cried, " Then
let us be as brothers ; since your homes are far distant,

* Wise man.

3oo Old Dcccan Days.

return with me to my house, -which is close by ; there you
can rest awhile, and each of us put our various powers to
the proof." This proposal pleased the Wrestler and the
Pearlshooter, who accompanied the Pundit to his house.

Now, in the kitchen there was an enormous cauldron
of iron, so heavy that five-and-twenty men could hardly
move it ; and in the dead of night, the Wrestler, to pro^•e
his power, got up from the verandah, where he was sleep-
ing, and as quietly as possible lifted this great cauldron
on to his shoulders, and carried it down to the river,
where he waded with it into the deepest part of the water,
and there buried it. After having accomplished this feat,
he returned to the Pundit's house as quietly as he had
left it, and, rolling himself up in his blanket, fell fast
asleep. But though he had come never so softly, the
Pundit's wife heard him, and waking her husband, she said,
" I hear footsteps as of people creeping quietly about and
not wishing to be heard, and but a little while ago I noticed
the same thing ; perhaps there are thieves in the house, let
us go and see ; it is strange they should choose such a
bright moonlight night." And they both got up quickly,
and walked round the house. They found nothing, how-
ever, out of order, nor any signs of anything having been
touched or disarranged, until they came to the kitchen.
And, indeed, at first they thought all was as they left it
there, when, just as they were going away, the Pundit's wife
cried out to him, "Why, what has become of the great
cauldron ? I never thought of looking to see if that was safe ;
for it did not seem possible that it could have been moved."
And they both looked inside the house and outside, but

Hoiv the Three Clever Men Outunttcd the Demons. 301

the cauldron was nowhere to be seen. At last, however,
they discovered deep footprints in the sand close to the
kitchen door, as of some one who had been carrying a
very heavy weight, and these they traced down to the river
side.

Then the Pundit said, " Some one immensely strong has
evidently done this, for here are the footprints of one man
only ; and he must have buried the cauldron in the water,
for see, there is no continuation of the footprints on the
other side. I wonder who can have done it ? Let us go
and see that our two guests are asleep ; perhaps the
Wrestler played us this trick to prove his great strength."
And, with his wife, he went into the verandah where the
Pearlshooter and the Wrestler lay rolled up in their blankets,
fast asleep. First, they looked at the Pearlshooter ; but,
on seeing him, the Pundit shook his head, saying, " No, he
certainly has not done this thing." They then looked at
the Wrestler, and the cunning Pundit licked the skin of the
sleeping man, and, turning to his wife, whispered, " This is
assuredly the man who stole the cauldron and put it in the
river, for he must have been but lately up to his neck in
fresh water, since there is no taste of salt on his skin from
his foot even to his shoulders. To-morrow I will surprise
him by showing him I know this." And so saying, the
Pundit crept back into the house followed by his wife.

Next morning early, as soon as it was light, the Pearl-
shooter and the Wrestler were accosted by their host, who
said to them, " Let us come down to the river and have a
bathe, for I cannot offer you a bath, since the great cauldron,
in which we generally wash, has been mysteriously carried

302 Old Dcccan Days.

away this very- night." " Where can it have gone ! " said
the Wrestler. " Ah, where indeed ! " answered the Pundit,
and he led them down to where the cauldron had been put
into the river by the Wrestler the night before, and wading
about in the water until he found it, pointed it out to him,
saying, " See, friend, how far this cauldron travelled ! "
The Wrestler was much surprised to find that the Pundit
knew where the cauldron was hidden, and said, " Who can
have put it there ? " "I will tell you," answered the
Pundit ; " why, I think it was you ! " And then he related
how his wife had heard footsteps, and being afraid ot
thieves, had awakened him the night before, and how they
had discovered that the cauldron was missing, and traced it
down to the river side ; and then how he had found out
that the Wrestler had just before been into the water up to
his neck. The Wrestler and the Pearlshooter were both
much astonished at the Pundit's wisdom in having found
this out ; and the Pearlshooter said to himself, " Both these
men are certainly more clever than I." Then the three
clever men returned to the house, and were very happy and
joyful, and amused themselves laughing and talking all the
rest of the day, and when evening came, the Pundit said to
the Wrestler, " Let us to-night forego all meagre fare, and
have a royal feast ; friend Strongman, pray you go and catch
the fattest of those goats that we see upon the hills yonder,
and we will cook it for our dinner." The Wrestler assented,
and ran on and on, until he reached the flock of goats which
were browsing upon the hill side. Now, just at that
moment a wicked little Demon came by that way, and on
seeing the Wrestler looking at the goats (to see which

How the Three Clever Lien Outivitted the Demojis. 303

seemed the finest to take home to dinner), he thought to
himself, " If I can make him choose me, and take me home
with him for his dinner, I shall be able to play him and his
friends some fine tricks." So, quick as thought, he changed
himself into a very handsome goat, and when the Wrestler
saw this one goat so much taller, and finer, and fatter than
all the rest, he ran and caught hold of him, and tucked him
under his arm, to carry him home for dinner. The goat
kicked and kicked, and jumped about, and tried to butt
more fiercely than the Wrestler had ever known any mortal
goat do before, but still he held him tight, and brought him
in triumph to the Pundit's door. The Pundit heard him
coming, and ran out to meet him ; but when he saw the
goat, he started back quite frightened, for the Wrestler was
holding it so tight that its eyes were almost starting out of
its head, and they were fiery and evil-looking, and burning
like two living coals, and the Pundit saw at once that it was
a Demon, and no goat, that his friend held ; then he
thought quickly, " If I appear to be frightened this cruel
Demon will get into the house and devour us all ; I must
endeavour to intimidate him." So, in a bold voice, he
cried, " Oh, Wrestler ! Wrestler ! foolish friend ! what have
you done? We asked you to fetch a fat goat for our
dinner, and here you have only brought one wretched litde
Demon. If you could not find goats, while you were
about it you might as well have brought more Demons, for
we are hungry people. My children are each accustomed
to eat one Demon a day, and my wife eats three, and I
myself eat twelve, and here you have only brought one
between us all ! What are we to do ? " At hearing these

304 Old Dcccan Days.

reproaches the Wrestler was so much astonislied that he
dropped the Demon goat, who, for his part, was so
frightened at the Pundit's words, that he came crawhng
along quite humbly upon his knees, saying, " Oh, sir ! do
not eat me, do not eat me, and I will give you anything
you like in the world. Only let me go, and I will fetch you
mountains of treasure, rubies and diamonds, and gold and
precious stones beyond all count. Do not eat me ; only let
me go ! " " No, no," said the Pundit ; " I know what you'll
do ; you'll just go away and never return ; we are very
hungry ; we do not want gold and precious stones, but we
want a good dinner ; we must certainly eat you." The
Demon thought all that the Puncht said must be true ; he
spoke so fearlessly and naturally. So he only repeated
more earnestly, " Only let me go, I promise you to return
and bring you all the riches that you could desire." The
Pundit was too wise to seem glad; but he said sternly,
" Very well, you may go ; but unless you return quickly,
and bring the treasure you promise, be you in the uttermost
part of the earth, we will find you and eat you, for we are
more powerful than you and all your fellows."

The Demon, who had just experienced how much
stronger the Wrestler was than ordinary men, and then
heard from the Pundit's own lips of his love for eating
Demons, thought himself exceedingly lucky to have escaped
their clutches so easily ; and returning to his own land, he
fetched from the Demons' storehouse a vast amount of
■|)recious things with which he was flying away with all speed,
(in order to pay his debt and avoid being afterwards hunted
and eaten), when several of his comrades caught hold of

Hozv the Three Clever Meji Oiitzviitcd the Demons. 305

him, and in angry tones asked where he was carrying away
so much of their treasure ? The Demon answered, " I
take it to save my Hfe ; for whilst wandering round the
world I was caught by terrible. creatures, more dreadful than
the sons of men, and they threaten to eat me unless I bring
the treasure."

"We should like to see these dreadful creatures,"
ansAvered they, " for we never before heard of mortals who
devoured Denions." To which he replied, " These are
not ordinary mortals ; I tell you they are the fiercest
creatures I ever savr, and would devour our Rajah,*
himself, did they get the chance ; one of them said
that he daily eat twelve Demons, that his v^'ife eat three,
and each of his children one." At hearing this they con-
sented to let him go for the time ; but the Demon Rajah
commanded him to return with all speed next day, that the
matter might be further discussed in solemn council.

When, after three days' absence, the Demon returned to
the Pundit's house with the treasure, the Pundit angrily said
to him, " Why have you been so long away ? You pro-
mised to return as soon as possible." He answered, " All
my fellow Demons detained me, and Avould hardly let me
go, they were so angry at my bringing you so much
treasure ; and though I told them how great and powerful
you are, they v/ould not believe me, but will, as soon as I
return, judge me in solemn council for serving you."
" Where is your solemn council held ? " ask^d the Pundit.
" Oh, Mtxy far, far away," answered the Demon, " in the
depths of the jungle, where our Rajah daily holds his
* Kill!?.

306 Old Dcccan Days.

court." " I and my friends should like to see that place,
and your Rajah, and all his court," said the Pundit ; you
must take us with you when you go, for we have absolute
mastery over all Demons, even over their Rajah himself,
and unless you do as we command, we shall be very angry."
" Very well," answered the Demon, for he felt quite
frightened at the Pundit's fierce words; "mount on my
back, and I'll take you there." So the Pundit, the Wrestler,
and the Pearlshooter all mounted the Demon, and he
flew away with them, on, on, on, as fast as wings could
cut the air, till they reached the great jungle where the
durbar"" was to be held, and there he placed them all
on the top of a high tree just over the Demon Rajah's
throne. In a few minutes the Pearlshooter, the Wrestler,
and the Pundit heard a rushing noise, and thousands
and thousands of Demons filled the place, covering the
ground as far as the eye could reach, and thronging
chiefly round the Rajah's throne ; but they did not notice
the men up in the tree above them. Then the Rajah
ordered that the Evil Spirit, who had taken of their treasure
to give to mortals, should be brought to judgment, and
when they had dragged the culprit into the midst of them,
they accused him, and having proved him guilty, would
have punished him ; but he defended himself stoutly,
saying, " Noble Rajah, those v.'ho forced me to fetch
them treasure were no ordinary mortals, but great and
terrible ; they said they eat many Demons ; the man eat
twelve a day, his wife eat three, and each of his children
one. He said, moreover, that he and his friends were more

* Council,

Hoiv the Three Clever Men Oiitxvitted the Demons. 307

powerful than us all, and ruled your majesty as absolutely
as we are ruled by you." The Demon Rajah answered,
" Let us see these great people of whom you speak, and we

will believe you ; but ." At this moment the tree upon

which the Pundit, the Pearlshooter, and the Wrestler were,
broke, and down they all tumbled ; first, the Wrestler, then
the Pearlshooter, and lastly, the Pundit, upon the head of
the Demon Rajah as he sat in judgment. They seemed
to have come down from the sky, so suddenly did they
appear, and, being very much alarmed at their awkward
position, determined to take the aggressive. So the Wrestler
kicked and hugged and beat the Rajah with all his might
and main, and the Pearlshooter did likewise, while the
Pundit, who was perched up a little higher than either
of the others, cried, "So be it, so be it. We will eat him
first for dinner, and afterwards we Avill eat all the other
Demons." The Evil Spirits hearing this, one and all flew
away from the confusion, and left their Rajah to his fate ;
while he cried, " Oh spare me ! spare me ! I see it is all
true ; only let me go, and I will give you as much treasure
as you like." " No, no," said the Pundit ; " don't listen to
him, friends ; we will eat him for dinner." And the ^^TestIer
and the Pearlshooter kicked and beat him harder than
before. Then the Demon cried again, " Let me go ! let
me go ! " " No, no," they answered ; and they chastised
him vigorously for the space of an hour, until, at last, fearing
they should get tired, the Pundit said, " The treasure would
be no use to us here in the jungle, but if you brought us a
very great deal to our own house, we might give up eating
you for dinner to-day; you must, however, give us great

X 2

308 Old Dcccan Days.

compensation, for we are all ver}- hungiy." To this the
Demon Rajah gladly agreed, and calling together his
scattered subjects, ordered them to take the three valiant
men home again, and convey* the treasure to the Pundit's
house. The little Demons obeyed his orders -with much
fear and trembling, but they were very willing to do their
best to get the Pundit, the Pearlshooter, and the Wrestler
out of Demon land, who for their parts were no less
anxious to go. When they got home, the Pundit said,
" You shall not go until the engagement is fulfilled."
Instantly Demons without number filled the house with
riches ; and when they had accomplished their task, they
all flew away, fearing greatly the terrible Pundit and his
friends, who talked of eating Demons as men would eat
almonds and raisins. So, by never showing that he was
afraid, this brave Pundit saved his family from being eaten
by these Evil Spirits, and also got a vast amount of treasure.
Then he divided it into three equal portions : a third he
gave to the Wrestler, a third to the Pearlshooter, and a
third he kept himself ; after which he sent his friends with
many kindly words, back to their own homes. So the
Pearlshooter returned to his house laden with gold and
jewels of priceless worth, and when he got there, he called
his wife and gave them to her, saying, " I have been a far
journey, and brought back all these treasures for you, and I
have learnt that your words were true, since in the v.-orld
there are cleverer men than I ; for mine is a cleverness that
profits not, and but for a Pundit and a Wrestler, I should
not have gained these riches. I will shoot the pearl from
your nose-ring no more." And he never did.

^^^^

XXIV.

THE ALLIGATOR AND THE JACKAL.

A HUNGRY Jackal once went down to the river side in
search of little crabs, bits of fish, and whatever else he could
find for his dinner. Now it chanced that in this river there
lived a great big Alligator, who, being also veiy hungry,
would have been extremely glad to eat the Jackal.

The Jackal ran up and down, here and there, but for a
long time could find nothing to eat. At last, close to where
the Alligator was lying, among some tall bulrushes under the
clear shallow water, he saw a little crab sidling along as fast
as his legs could carry him. The Jackal was so hungry
that when he saw this, he poked his paw into the water to
try and catch the crab, when snap ! the old Alligator
caught hold of him. " Oil dear ! " thought the Jackal to
himself, " what can I do ? this great big Alligator has
caught my paw in his mouth, and in another minute he

310 Old Dcccan Days.

will drag me down by it under the water and kill me. My
only chance is to make him think he has made a m.istake."
So he called out in a cheerful voice, " Clever Alligator,
clever Alligator, to catch hold of a bulrush root instead of
my paw. I hope you find it very tender." The Alligator,
who was so buried among the bulrushes that he could hardly
see, thought, on hearing this, " Dear me, how tiresome ; I
fancied I had caught hold of the Jackal's paw ; but there
he is, calling out in a cheerful voice ; I suppose I must
have seized a bulrush root instead, as he says," and he let
the Jackal go.

The Jackal ran away as fast as he could, crying, " Oh,
wise Alligator, wise Alligator. So you let me go again ! "
Then the Alligator was very vexed, but the Jackal had run
away too far to be caught. Next day the Jackal returned
to the river side to get his dinner, as before ; but because he
was very much afraid of the Alligator he called out, "When-
ever I go to look for my dinner, I see the nice little crabs
peeping up through the mud, then I catch them and eat
them. I wish I could see one now."

The Alligator, who was buried in the mud at the bottom
of the river, heard every word. So he popped the little
point of his snout above it, thinking, " If I do but just
show the tip of my nose, the Jackal will take me for a crab
and put in his paw to catch me, and as soon as ever he
does I'll gobble him up."

But no sooner did the Jackal see the little tip of the
Alligator's nose than he called out, " Aha, my friend, there
you are. No dinner for me in this part of the river then, I
think." And so saying he ran forther on, and fished for his

The Alligatoi' and the Jackal. 311

dinner a long way from that place. The Alligator was very
angry at missing his prey a second time, and determined
not to let him escape again.

So on the following day, when his little tormentor returned
to the water side, the Alligator hid himself close to the bank,
in order to catch him if he could. Now the Jackal was
rather afraid going near the river, for he thought, " Perhaps
this Alligator will catch me to-day." But yet, being hungry, he
did not wish to go without his dinner ; so to make all as safe
as he could, he cried, '*' Where are all the little crabs gone ?
There is not one here, and I am so hungry ; and generally,
even when they are under water, one can see them going
bubble, bubble, bubble, and all the little bubbles go pop !
pop ! pop ! " On hearing this the Alligator, who was buried
in the mud under the river bank, thought, " I will pretend
to be a little crab," And he began to blow, " Puff, puff,
puff! Bubble, bubble, bubble!" and all the great big
bubbles rushed to the surface of the river and burst there,
and the waters eddied round and round like a whirlpool ;
and there was such a commotion when the huge monster
began to blow bubbles in this way, that the Jackal saw
very well who must be there, and he ran away as fast as
he could, saying, " Thank you, kind Alligator, thank you ;
thank you. Indeed I would not have come here had I
known you were so close."

This enraged the Alligator extremely ; it made him quite
cross to think of being so often deceived by a little Jackal,
and he said to himself, " I will be taken in no more. Next
time I will be very cunning." So for a long time he waited
and waited for the Jackal to return to the river side ; but

312

the Jackal did not come, for he liad thought to himself, " If
matters go on in this way, I shall some day be caught, and
eaten by the wicked old Alligator. I had better content
myself with living on wild figs," and he went no more near
the river, but stayed in the jungles and eat wild figs, and
roots which he dug up with his paws.

When the Alligator found this out, he determined to try
and catch the Jackal on land, so going under the largest of
wild fig trees, where the ground was covered vv'ith the
fallen fruit, he collected a quantity of it together, and,
burying himself under the great heap, waited for the Jackal
to appear. But no sooner did the cunning little animal see
this great heap of wild figs all collected together, than he
thought, "That looks very like my friend the Alligator."'
And to discover if it was so or not he called out, " The
juicy little wild figs I love to eat, always tumble down from
the tree, and roll here and there as the wind drives them ;
but this great heap of figs is quite still ; these cannot be
good figs, I v.'ill not eat any of them." " Ho, ho," thought
the Alligator, " is that all ? How suspicious this Jackal
is. I will make the figs roll about a little then, and when
he sees that he will doubtless come and eat them."

So the great beast shook himself, and all the heap of little
figs went roll, roll, roll ; some a mile this way, some a mile
that, farther than they had ever rolled before, or than the
most blustering wind could have driven them !

Seeing this the Jackal scampered away saying, " I am so
much obliged to you. Alligator, for letting me knov/ you are
there, for indeed I should hardly have guessed it. You were
so buried under that heap of figs." The Alligator hearing

The Alligator and the Jackal, 313

this, was so angry that he ran after the Jackal, but the
latter ran very, very fast away, too quickly to be caught.

Then the Alligator said to himself, " I will not allow that
little v\Tetch to make fun of me another time, and then
run away out of reach ; I will show him that I can be more
cunning than he fancies." And early the next morning he
crawled as fast as he could to the Jackal's den (which
was a hole in the side of a hill) and crept into it, and
hid himself, waiting for the Jackal, who Avas out, to return
home. But when the Jackal got near the place he looked
about him and thought, " Dear me, the ground looks as if
some heavy creature had been v.alking over it, and here are
great clods of earth knocked down from each side of the
door of my den, as if a very big animal had been trying to
squeeze himself through it. I certainly will not go inside
imtil I know that all is safe there." So he called out,
" Little house, pretty house, my sweet little house, why do
you not give an answer when I call ? If I come, and all is
safe and right, you always call out to me. Is anything
wrong that you do not speak ? "

Then the Alligator, who was inside, thought, " If that is
the case I had better call out, that he may fancy all is right
in his house." And in as gentle a voice as he could, he
said, " Sweet little Jackal."

At hearing these words the Jackal felt quite frightened,
and thought to himself, " So the dreadful old Alligator is
there. I must try to kill him if I can, for if I do not he
will certainly catch and kill me some day." He therefore
answered, " Thank you, my dear little house. I like to hear
your pretty voice. I am coming in in a minute, but first I

314 Old Decern I Days.

must collect firewood to cook my dinner." And he ran as
fast as he could, and dragged all the dry branches and bits
of stick he could find, close up to the mouth of the den.
Meantime the Alligator inside kept as quiet as a mouse,
but he could not help laughing a little to himself, as he
thought, " So I have deceived this tiresome little Jackal at
last. In a few minutes he will nui in here, and then won't
I snap him up." When the Jackal had gathered together
all the sticks he could find, and put them round the mouth
of his den, he set them on fire and pushed them as far into
it as possible. There was such a quantity of them that they
soon blazed up into a great fire, and the smoke and flames
filled the den and smothered the wicked old Alligator, and
burnt him to death, while the little Jackal ran up and down
outside, dancing for joy and singing : —

" How do you like my house, my friend ? Is it nice and
warm ? Ding, dong ! ding, dong ! The Alligator is dying !
ding, dong, ding, dong !

" He will trouble me no more. I have defeated my
enemy ! Ring a ting ! ding a ting ! ding, ding, dong ! "

. lx.>., Jjf£..\\, I

f\ ^

NOTES ON THE NARRATOR'S
NARRATIVE.

NOTE A.

The Battle of Kirkee was the turning point in the last INIahratta
war, which sealed the fate of the Peishwa's dynasty and transferred the
Deccan to British rule, and is naturally, in that part of India, still regarded
by all whose recollections go back to those days, as the one great event
of modem history.

When the collector of these tales was in India, the house temporarily
occupied by the Governor of Bombay overlooked the field ot battle, and
among those who came to see the Governor on business or pleasure
were some, natives as well as Europeans, to whoni the events of half a
century ago were matters of living memoiy.

Old soldiers would tell how the fidelity of the native Sepoys resisted
all the bribes and threats of Bajee Row Peishwa, the absolute Brahmia
ruler of Poona, and thus, while the Peishwa hoped to effect his purpose
by treachery, enabled Mr. Mountsteuart Elphinstone to defer open
hostilities — a matter of vital importance to the operations of Lord
Hastings on the other side of India, in preparing for his great campaign
against the Pindarics.

The veterans would recount all the romantic incidents of the struggle
which followed. How the "old Toughs" (now H. M.'s 103rd Regi-
ment), the only European corps within reach, when at last slipped from
the leash at Panwell, marched seventy-two miles straight up over the
ghauts to Poona, with only a single three hours' halt en route ; how
they closed up their ranks of travel-soiled warriors and entered the
British lines with band playing, and colours flying ; and how not a
straggler dropped behind, "for all knew that there must be a battle
soon." Their arrival was the signal for the_ Peishwa to throw off the
mask, and as the British Residency was untenable, our troops moved

3i6 Old Dcccan Days.

out to take up a safer position at Kirkee, about three miles from tlie
city of Poona; and as they marched they saw all the houses of the
Resident and his suite fired by the enemy, who swanned out of the city.
As they formed in line of battle, they anxiously watched the native regi-
ments coming up on their flank from Dapoorie, for that was the moment
for successful treacheiy, if the native soldiers were untme ! ZS'ot a Sepoy,
however, in the British ranks wavered, though before the junction -was
complete a cloud of Mahratta cavalry poured down upon them, dashed
through the opening left between the two lines, enveloped either flank
of the little army, and attacked the European regiment in the rear.
Then, as a last resource, the European regiment faced about their
second rank, and kept up such a steady rolling fire to front and rear at
the same time, that but few of the eager horsemen ever came witliin
spear's length of the British bayonets.

In these days of rapid and far-reaching musketry fire, such a manoeuvre
bids fair to supersede the fonp.ation of squares to resist cavalry, but up
to that day it had been but twice successfully attempted, as far as our
militaiy histories told, even by the " terrible infantry " of England,
and the veterans of the ' ' old Toughs " were not a little proud to have
succeeded in a movement which had won for H. M.'s 28th Regiment
the unique honour of having a double number on the back as well as
the front of their caps.

One of the most touching recollections of those times attracted our
notice almost the last day we spent at Kirkee. An old chief, Jadowrow
of Malagaom, had come to take leave of the departing Governor. He
was head of one of the oldest Mahratta families, for his ancestors were
famous as a very ancient royal house, before the Mahomedans invaded
the Deccan. The old man had borne arms as a youthful commander of
horse, when the gi-eat Duke was at Poona in 1802, just before the Battle
of Assaye ; had been greatly distinguished for his gallantry in the battle
of Kirkee, so fatal to his race, and had followed the fortunes of the
Peishwa to the last. Disdaining to make separate terms for himself
with the English conqueror, he remained one of the few thoroughly
faithful to his sovereign, not from love, for he loved not Bajee Row, but
"because he had eaten his salt," and only after the Peishwa's surrender
returned to his old castle near Poona. There for many years he lived,
hunting and hawking over his diminished acres, and greatly respected
as a model of a gallant and honourable old chief ; but he could never
be persuaded to revisit the capital of the Mahrattas after its occupation

A^otrs. 317

by the English. "He had no child," he said, "and his race v.-ould
die with him." At last, as years rolled on, an only son was born to
him ; and then, touched by some unexpected act of liberality on the
part of the British Government which would secure his ancestral estate
to this child of his old age, he resolved to go to Poona, and visited the
Governor, whose temporary residence happened to overlook the battle-
field of Kirkee. He gazed long and wistfully from the drawing-room
windows and said, " This place is much changed since I was here last,
fifty years ago. It was here the battle was fought, and it was from near
this very spot that we charged down that slope on the English line as
it formed beyond that brook. I never thought to have seen this place
again."

As these pages are written the overland mail brings a letter written
on gold-flowered paper, in beautiful square Mahratta characters. It is
from the old chief. It asks no favour, save a photograph of an old
friend he can never see again, and conveys in terms of stately courtesy
an assurance of his good will and cordial recollection.

Not many miles from Poona a beautiful obelisk of black basalt rising
from the great plain, which stretches eastward, marks the village of
Koreigaom. There, a few weeks after the battle of Kirkee, a single
batallion of Sepoys (the 1st Bombay Grenadiers), with a few British
gimners of the Madras Artillery, and troopers of the Poona Horse,
defended the open village for a whole day against the Mahratta army,
commanded by the Peishwa in person, and infuriated by their then
recent defeat at Kirkee.

Of the heroes of that little band few, of course, now survive. Wlien
we visited Koreigaom, the most conspicuous among the crowd of
villagers was a little Mahratta boy, who over his ordinary garments
had donned the full-dress coatee of a native officer's imiform of half a
century ago. He was the son of a Jemadar (captain of native infantry),
selected by Sir John Malcolm from among the heroes of the Grenadiers,
to hold a small grant of land which the wise liberality of the old Court
of Directors had given in perpetuity to ensure the safeguard of the
monument. The lad had carefully preserved his father's sword, sash,
and cap, and had ranged them on a carpet in the little courtyard in
front of his door, that we might see them as we passed to examine the
scene of the stfuggle. A few only of the elders of the village re-
membered the day, when, as terrified children, they had hidden them-
selves while the battle raged ; but all could point out the spots where

3i8 Old Dcccan Days.

every incident occurred. The mud houses of the village are clustered
now, as then, on the summit of a large mound which overlooks the river
Bheema, and on the highest point, at the intersection of the two irregular
streets, is a little open space (as usual -in Mahratta villages), with the
sacred tree, under which the Elders congi-egate every evening to^hear the
news, and to sit in conclave in front of the village temple and choultry
(or resting place for travellers). These were the only stone buildings in
the village. The massive square pillars of black basalt bear in bas-
relief car\-ings of ages ago, scenes of battles of heroes and demigods
taken from the ancient national epic. This little temple, though not
many feet square inside, was, from its strength and situation, the key of
the position. Commanding the street on one side, and overlooking the
river on the other, it enabled a few men to protect the guns posted in
the open space. Here was the only shelter for the wounded. Our men
had but partial possession of the village, small as it was, for on the
morning of the battle as they marched in to occupy it from one side, the
advanced guard of the Mahratta army, of whose approach they had, till
a few minutes before, been unaware, swarmed in from the other (the
river side), and the contest began when a few yards only separated the
leading combatants. The Peishwa took up his position on an eminence
at a little distance, and through the livelong day one body after another
of his choicest troops, Arabs and others, were sent to overwhelm the
handful of British Sepoys. The enemy moved up under cover of the
mud walls, and more than once succeeded in seizing our guns ; but each
time the Sepoys, advancing with the bayonet, as long as an English
officer remained to lead them on, drove their foes back. Here, we
■were told, fell Pattinson, the gigantic adjutant. He was the son of a
Cumberland clerg)'man, and was gi-eatly beloved by his men. Early in
the day he had been shot through the body, and othenvise sorely
wounded, and the men thought he was dead ; but when he heard the
guns were taken by the enemy, he struggled to his feet, and, clubbing
the musket of a fallen Sepoy, struck do\vn an Arab, and led his men
once more with a rush to recover the gims. At length eveiy combatant
European officer in that part of the position was killed or disabled, and
then the young Assistant-Surgeons Wylie and Wingate, leaving their
wounded in the temple, took their swords, and, calling the almost
exhausted men to follow them, twice led them to the charge, retook
the precious guns, and restored the fortune of the day. In one of
these charges Wingate fell mortally wounded.

Azotes. 319

The greatest sufferings of the Sepoys were from thirst ; the villagers
had depended on the sacred waters of the Bheema, and our men could
see the clear stream running within a hundred yards of them, but it
was death to drink it, for those hundred yards could be swept by the
fire of the whole Peishwa's army, and no man could live to cross that
space and return.

At length night closed on the unequal combat. The Peishwa, utterly
dispirited by his failure to overwhelm even such a handful of British
Sepoys unsupported by any body of Europeans, withdrew, and never
again attempted to try the fortune of war in the field. The surviving
remnant of the victors made good their retreat, carrying with them,
among their other wounded, their gallant adjutant, to die and be laid in
a soldier's grave at Seroor.*

Almost eveiy hill, fort, and every large village round Poona, has some
tradition, not only of the days of Alumgeer, Sivagee and of early
Mahratta history, but of the campaigns of Wellesley in 1802 and of
the last great struggle in 1817-18 ; and many were the tales, like those
above referred to which still survive, mingled with recollections of
Elphinstone's wisdom and noble generosity, and Malcolm's frankness,
which it was pleasant to hear and verify in these days of cynical
scepticism which affects to doubt alike the power of imsupported
European heroism, and the existence of courage, unselfish fidelity, and
real gratitude among the natives ; and which too often really does doubt
the possibility of holding and governing India by the same means and
in the same spirit by which our empire was acquired. Do we not, by
such disbelief, sometimes risk the power to do such deeds as the last
generation witnessed ?

NOTE B.

■^ Anna's remarks on the contrast between the present dearth and the
"good old times" of cheap bread, when the rupee went so much
further than it does now, are very characteristic. The complaint, too,

* For a full account of the military operations of this eventful period,
see Grant Duff's admirable " History of the Mahrattas."

320 Old D cecal I Days.

is very universal, and is to be heard in the household of public function-
aries, the highest as well as the lowest, in eveiy giade of native society,
and more or less in all parts of India. It is a complaint, too, which
deserves far more attentive consideration than it has hitherto received.
Economists and statisticians are well aware that the great and steady rise
in prices of late years in India is one of the consequences of a great and
long continued influx of the precious metals, and therefore a symptom
of the growing prosperity of the country ; but the English subaltern or
railway engineer finds only that it leaves him at the end of the year a
poorer man than he would have been at home, when he expected to
have been richer, and he is very apt to attribute his disappointment to
the Government, and to imagine that he has been entrapped into a bad
bargain.

The natives are naturally still less likely to weigh against the incon-
veniences of rising prices, the many advantages to all the labouring and
mercantile classes with which high prices are accompanied, when caused
by a cheapening of the precious metals ; and very bitter are the invectives
often directed against " the Government which makes bread dear."

The Narrator's notion that " The English fixed the rupee at sixteen
annas," is another specimen of a very wide spread Indian popular
delusion. The rupee always consisted of sixteen annas, for the anna
means only the sixteenth part of anything, but to the poor the gi'eat
matter for consideration in all questions of currency is the quantity of
small change they can get for the coin in which their wages are paid.
Formerly this used to fluctuate with the price of copper, and the
quantity of copper change which a silver rupee would fetch varied as
copper was cheap or dear, and was always gi'eatest when the copper cur-
rency was most debased. The English introduced all over India a uniform
currency of copper as well as of silver, and none of course were greater
gainers in the long run by this uniformity than the very poor. But, as
usually happens in such cases, the memory of the occasional gain when
the rupee brought more than its normal proportion of change, has out-
lived the recollection of the more frequent loss when it brought less ;
and the popular intelligence, however it may smart under the evils of
an uncertain and irregular currency, is slow to recognise the benefits of
uniformity.

Notes. 32 1

NOTE C.

I AM unable, at present, to give either the native words or music
for this curious little Calicut song. The second part is probably of
Portuguese origin, or it may have been derived from the Syriaa
Christians who have been settled on that coast since the earliest ages.

The English translation of the words as explained to me by Anna, is
as follows :

PART I.
THE SONG FROM THE SHIP.

{To be sung by one or more voices.)

1. Veiy far went the ship, in the dark, up and down, up and down.

There was very little sky ; the sailors couldn't see anything ;
rain was coming.

2. Now darkness, lightning, and very little rain ; but big flashes,

two yards long, that looked as if they fell into the sea.

3. On the third day the Captain looks out for land, shading his eyes

with his hand. There may be land. The sailors say to him,
"What do you see?" He answers, " Far off is the jungle,
and, swinging in a tree, is an old monkey, with two little
monkeys in her arms. We must be nearing land."

4. Again the Captain looks out ; the sailors say to him, " What

do you see?" He answers, "On the shore there walks a
pretty little maiden, with a chattee * on her head ; she skips,

* Jar.

322 Old Dcccau Days.

and inns, and dances as she goes. We must be nearing
land."

5. The storm begins to rage again, and hides the land : at last it
clears a little. The sailors say to the Captain, " What do
you see?" He answers, "I see a man ploughing; two
bullocks draw the plough. We must be nearing land. "
It is all true, they have gained the shore.

PART II.
SONG FROM THE SHORE.

{To he sung by one or more voices.)

1. The ship's on the sea —
Which way is it coming ?
Right home to land.
What cargo has it ?

The ship brings the sacrament and praying beads.

2. The ship's on the sea —
Which way is it coming ?
Right home to land.
What cargo has it ?

The ship brings white paper and the Twelve Apostles.

3. The ship comes home to land —
What cargo does it bring ?

Silver money, prophets, and holy people. •

4. The ship comes home to land —
What does it bring ?

All the saints, and holy people, and Jesus Christ of
Nazareth.

Notes.

323

The ship comes to our doors —

Who brings it home ?

Our Saviour.

Our Saviour bless the ship, and bring it safely home.

The second song, "The Little Wife watching for her Husband's
Return," Anna had almost entirely forgotten.

It was, she said, veiy pretty, being the song of the little wife, as she
decks herself in her jewels to please her husband when he comes home.
She laments his absence, and fears he has forgotten her, and bemoans
her loneliness.

(M. F.)

324 Old Deccan Days.

NOTES ON THE FAIRY LEGENDS.

PUNCHKIN.

Page I. — The Rajah's seven daughters, taking it by turns to cook their
father's dinner, would be nothing unusual in the household of a Rajah.
To a Chief, or great man in India, it is still the most natural precaution
he can take against poison, to eat nothing but what has been prepared
by his wife or daughter, or under their eye in his own zenana ; and
there are few accomplishments on which an Indian Princess prides
herself more than on her skill in cookery.

RAMA AND LUXMAN.

Page 81. — The little black and white owls, which fly out at dusk and
sit always in pairs, chattering to each other, in a singularly conversa-
tional version of owl language, are among the most widely-spread of
Indian birds, and in every province where they are found are regarded
as the most accomplished of soothsayers. Unlike other ominous
creatures, they are anxious to do good to mankind, for they always tell
each other what the traveller ought to do, and if mankind were not so
dull in understanding their language, would save the hearer from all
risk of misfortune.

LITTLE SURYA BAI.

Page 93. — The sangfroid with which the first Ranee, here and in the
story of Panch-Phul Ranee, page 146, receives the second and more
favoured wife to share her throne, however difficult to understand in the
West, is veiy characteristic of Oriental life. In Indian households of
the highest rank, it would not be difficult to find examples of several
wives living amicably together as described in some of these stories ; but

Notes. 325

the contrary result, as depicted in this story of Surya Bai and others, is
far more common, for as a general rule human nature is too strong
for custom, and under an external serenity bitter jealousies exist between
the several wives of a royal Hindoo household, which are a constant
source of misery and crime. Among the curious changes of opinion
which are observable of late years in our Indian Empire, none is more
remarkable than the conviction now frequently expressed, by the
warmest supporters of native governments at native courts, that the
toleration of polygamy is one of their most serious dangers, the removal
of which is of vital importance to the safety of any Indian dynasty,
and, indeed, to the permanence of any Indian family of rank.

THE WANDERINGS OF VICRAM MAHARAJAH.

Page 105. — The Dipmal or Tower of Lights, is an essential feature in
every large Hindoo temple. It is often of great height, and furnished
with niches or brackets, each of which holds a lamp on festivals, espe-
cially on that of the Dewali, the feast of lamps celebrated in the autumn
in honour of the Hindoo goddess Bowani or Kali, who was formerly
propitiated on that occasion by human sacrifices.

Page 106. — The story of Vicram's act of devotion is thoroughly
Hindoo. It is difficult for any European to understand the universal
prevalence and strength of the conviction among Hindoos that the par-
ticular god of their adoration can be prevailed on, by importunity or
self-devotion, to reveal to his worshipper some act, generally ascetic or
sacrificial, the perfonnance of which will insure to the devotee the
realization of the object of his wishes. The act of devotion, and the
object of the devotee are both often very trivial ; but, occasionally, we
are startled by hearing of some deed of horror, a human sacrifice 01
deliberate act of self-immo lation, which is quite unaccountable to those
who are not aware that it is only a somewhat extreme manifestation of a
belief which still influences the daily conduct of the great majority of our
Hindoo fellow-subjects.

And even Europeans, who have known the Hindoos long and inti-
mately, frequently fail to recognise the extent to which this belief
influences the ethics of common life and action in India. To quote an

326 Old Dcccan Days.

instance from well-known history, there are few acts regarding which
a European traveller would expect the verdict of all mankind to be
more generally condemnatory than the murder of Afzul Khan, the
general of the Imperial Delhi Army, by Sivajee, the founder of the
Mahratta Empire. Sivajee, according to the well-known story, had
invited his victim to an amicable conference, and there stabbed him with
a wag nuck* as they embraced at their first meeting. It was a deed of
such, deliberate, and cruel treachery, that it could find few defenders in
Europe even among the wildest advocates of political assassination. A
European is consequently little prepared to find it regarded by Mah-
rattas generally as a most commendable act of devotion. The Hindoo
conscience condemns murder and treacheiy as emphatically as the
European ; but this act, as viewed by the old-fashioned Mahratta, was
a sacrifice prescribed by direct revelation of the temble goddess Bowani
to her faithful devotee. It was, therefore, highly meritorious, and the
beautiful Genoese blade which Sivajee always wore, and with which his
victim was finally dispatched was, down to our own days, provided with
a little temple of its own in the palace of his descendants, and annually
worshipped by them and their household — not as a mere act of venera-
tion for their ancestor's trasty sword, but because it was the chosen
instrument of a great sacrifice, and, "no doubt," as the attendant who
watched it used to say, "some of the spirit of Bowani," whose name it
bore, "must still reside in it."

An attentive obsei-ver will notice in the daily life of those around him
in India constant instances of this belief in the efficacy of acts of devo-
tion and sacrifice to alter even the decrees of Fate. It is one of the
many incentives to the long pilgrimages which form such a universal
feature in Hindoo life, and the records of our courts of justice, and our
Indian newspapers, constantly afford traces of its prevalence in cases
of attempted suttee and other acts of self-immolation, or even of human
sacrifice, such as are above alluded to. It must be remembered that
Hindoo sacrifice has nothing but the name in common with the

* An instrument so called from its similarity to a tiger's claw. It
consists of sharp curved steel blades, set on a bar which fits by means
of finger rings to the inside of the hand, so as to be concealed when the
hand is closed ; while the blades project at right angles to the cross bar
and palm, when the hand is opened. It is struck as in slapping or
tearing with the claws.

Notes. 327

sacrifices which are a distinctive part of the religion of every Semitic
race. Many a difficulty which besets the Hindoo inquirer after truth,
would be avoided 'if this essential distinction were always known or
remembered.

Tage no. — This belief in the omnipotence of "Muntrs," or certain
verbal formulas, properly pronounced by one to whom they have been
authoritatively communicated, is closely allied to, and quite as universal
as, the belief in the efficacy of sacrificial acts of devotion. In every
nation throughout India, whatever may be the variations of creed or
caste usage, it is a general article of belief accepted by the vast majority
of every class and caste of Hindoos, that there is a form of words (or
Muntr), which, to be efficacious, can be only orally transmitted, but
which, when so communicated by one of the "twice bom," has abso-
lutely unlimited power over all things visible or invisible, extending
even to compelling the obedience of the gods, and of Fate itself. Of
course it is rather dangerous, even for the wisest, to meddle with such
potent influences, and the attempt is usually confined to the affairs of
common life ; but of the absolute omnipotence of "Muntrs" few ordi-
nary un-Europeanised Hindoos entertain any doubt, and there is hardly
any part of their belief which exercises such an all-pervading and potent
influence in their daily life, though that influence is often but little
understood by Europeans.

The classical reader will remember many allusions to a similar belief
as a part of the creeds imported from the East, which were fashionable
under the Empire at Rome. There is much curious information on the
subject of the earliest known Hindoo Muntrs in the "Aitareya Brah-
mana" of the learned Dr. Haug, the only European who ever witnessed
the whole process of a Hindoo sacrifice. The English reader, who is
curious on such matters, will do well to consult the recently published
work of Professor Max Miiller, which might, without exaggeration, be
described as a storehouse of new facts connected with the rehgion and
literature of the East, rather than by its modest title of " Chips from a
German Workshop."

328 Old Deccan Days.

HOW THE SUN, THE MOON, AND THE WIND
WENT OUT TO DINNER.

Page 169.— I have not ventured to alter the traditional mode of the
Moon's conveyance of dinner to her mother the Star. Though it must,
I fear, seriously impair the value of the story as a moral lesson, in the
eyes of all instructors of youth.

(M. F.)

SINGH RAJAH AND THE CUNNING LITTLE
JACKALS.

Page 174. — This story is substantially the same as one well-known to
readers of Pilpai's Fables. The chorus of the Jackals' song of triumph
is an imitation of their nocturnal howl.

THE JACKAL, THE BARBER, AND THE
BRAHMIN.

Page 179. — The touch of the poor outcast Mahars would be pollution
to a Hindoo of any but the lowest caste ; hence, their ready obedience
to the Jackal's exhortation not to touch him.

The offerings of rice, flowers, a chicken, &c., and the pouring water
over the idol, are parts of the regular daily observance in every village
temple.

MUCHIE LAL.

Page 245. — The popular belief in stories of this kind, where the Cobra
becomes the companion of human beings, is greatly strengthened by the
instances which occasionally occur when particular persons, sometimes
children or idiots, possess the power to handle the deadly reptiles with-
out receiving any injury from them. How much is due merely to

Notes. 329

gentleness of touch, and fearlessness, and how much to any personal
peculiarity which pleases the senses of the snake, it is difficult to say,
for the instances, though not few, and perfectly well authenticated, are
sufficiently rare to be popularly regarded as miraculous.

In one case, which occurred in the country west of Poona, not long
after our conquest of the Deccan, a Brahmin boy could, without the aid
of music or anything but his own voice, attract to himself and handle
with impunity all the snakes which might be within hearing in any
thicket or dry stone wall, such as in that country is their favourite
refuge. So great was the popular excitement regarding him, under the
belief that he was an incarnation of some divinity, that the magistrate of
Poona took note of his proceedings, and becoming uneasy as to the
political turn the excitement regarding the boy might take, reported
regularly to Government the growth of the crowds who pressed to see the
marvel, and to offer gifts to the child and his parents ! The poor boy,
however, was at last bitten by one of the reptiles and died, and the
wonder ceased.

CHUNDUN RAJAH.

Page 255. — There are innumerable popular superstitions regarding the
powers which can be conveyed in a charmed necklace ; and it is a com-
mon belief that good and bad fortune, and life itself, can be made to
depend on its not being removed from the wearer's neck.

CHANDRA'S VENGEANCE.

Page 274. — The picture of the childless wife setting forth to seek
Mahadeo, and resolving not to return till she has seen him, is one
which would find a parallel in some of the persons composing almost
every group of pilgrims who resort to the great shrines of Hindostan.
Any one who has an opportunity of quietly questioning the members of
such an assemblage will find that, besides the miscellaneous crowd of
idlers, there are usually specimens of two classes of very earnest devotees.
The one class is intent on the performance of some act of ascetic devo-
tion, the object of which is to win the favour of the Divinity, or to

330 Old Dcccan Days.

fulfil a vow for a favour already granted. The other class is seeking
"to see the Divinity," and expecting the revelation under one or other
of the terrible forms of the Hindoo Pantheon, There are few things
more pathetic than to hear one of this class recount the wanderings and
sufferings of his past search, or the journeys he has before him, which
are too often prolonged till death puts an end to the wanderer and his
pilgrimage.

Page 277. — The " fire which does not bum" is everywhere in India
one of the attributes of Mahadeo.

In many parts of the Deccan are to be found shrines consecrated to
one of the local gods, who has been Brahminically recognised as a
local manifestation of Mahadeo, where the annual festival of the divinity
was, within the last few years, kept by lighting huge fires, through
which devotees ran or jumped, attributing their escape from burning to
the interposition of Mahadeo. Except in a few remote villages, this
custom, which sometimes led to serious accidents, has, in British terri-
tory, been stopped by the police.

Page 280. — This story of the wonderful child who was found floating
in a box on a river, is to be heard, with more or less picturesque local
variations, on the banks of every large river in India. Almost every
old village in Sind has a local tradition of this kind.

Page 287. — Most households in Calcutta can furnish recollections
of depredations by birds, at their nest-building season, similar to that
of the Ranee's bangles by the Eagles in this story. But the object of
the theft is generally more prosaic. I have kno\vn gold rings so taken,
but the plunder is more frequently a lady's cuff, or collar, or a piece
of lace ; and the plunderers are crows, and sometimes, but very rarely,
a kite.

Page 295. — Purwaris, or outcasts, who are not suffered to live within
the quarter inhabited by the higher castes, are very numerous in
southern India, and a legend similar to this one is a frequent popular
explanation of their being in excess as compared with other classes of
the population.

Notes. 331

HOW THE THREE CLEVER MEN OUTWITTED
THE DEMONS.

Page 297. — Old residents at Surat may remember an ancient local
celebrity named Tom the Barber, among whose recollections of former
days was a chronicle of a renowned duellist, who used to amuse himself
by shooting with his pistol, somewhat after the fashion of the Pearl-
shooter. The little tin can of hot water which Tom carried, slung
from his forefinger, as he went his morning rounds, was a favourite
mark. So were the water-jars on the heads of the women, as they
passed the duellist's house coming from the well ; and great was Tom's
relief when an old woman, who could not be pacified by the usual
douceur for the loss of her jar and the shock of finding the water
stream down her back, appealed to the authorities and had the duellist
bound over to abstain in future from his dangerous amusement.

So vivid was Tom's recollections of his own terrors, that, after the
lapse of half a century, he could ill conceal his sense of the poetical
justice finally inflicted on his tormentor, who was killed in a duel to
which he provoked a young officer who had never before fired a
pistol.

THE END.

BRADBURY, EVANS, AND CO., PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.

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